28 Day February Challenge 2022

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/36811816.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M, M/M, Multi, Other
Fandom: Star Trek: Enterprise, Supernatural, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The
Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, Dragon Age:
Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age:
Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Relationship: Malcolm Reed/Charles "Trip" Tucker III, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fíli
(Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Bilbo Baggins/Thorin
Oakenshield, Anders/Hawke/Justice (Dragon Age), Anders/Female
Hawke/Justice (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford,
Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Character: Malcolm Reed, Charles "Trip" Tucker III, Castiel (Supernatural), Dean
Winchester, Fíli (Tolkien), Bilbo Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield, Frodo
Baggins, Kíli (Tolkien), Ori (Tolkien), Nori (Tolkien), Dori (Tolkien), Bofur
(Tolkien), Bifur (Tolkien), Bombur (Tolkien), Balin (Tolkien), Dwalin
(Tolkien), Óin (Tolkien), Glóin (Tolkien), Gimli (Son of Glóin), Anders
(Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Female Hawke (Dragon Age),
Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Alistair (Dragon
Age), Female Warden (Dragon Age), Wynne (Dragon Age), Morrigan
(Dragon Age)
Additional Tags: So many ships, SO MUCH FLUFF, and unfortunately also angst
Collections: The 2022 Keissekon February Challenge
Stats: Published: 2022-02-01 Updated: 2022-02-24 Chapters: 24/28 Words:
21428

28 Day February Challenge 2022

by asgardianhobbit98

Summary

This month, I'm partaking in a 28 Day Challenge hosted by the lovely and sweet Kiss over
on the Keissekon Server :3

It is a fic per day type of challenge, but we were allowed to do this whatever way we
wanted, with as many entries as we could.

It's in honour of Valentine, so slightly fluff themed (although I have to admit, some of my
entries turned a little angsty D: )

This is where I'll collect all 28 fics! Enjoy ~

 Star Trek Enterprise: Trip / Malcolm - 'First Kiss'
Chapter Summary

Week 1 – First Kiss Prompt

TW: None!

During a mission involving yet another future Enterprise crew, Trip finds out that he
harbours feelings for Malcolm through… the future Malcolm telling him? Time travel
sure was confusing sometimes…

Chapter Notes

This one is written not as a perfect oneshot, I got more drabble feelings from this: it’s
just a quick exploration of a possible way they end up together :3 Hope you enjoy!!

How did Trip realize that his feelings for Malcolm were not just ‘best friends feelings’? How did
he realize his instinct to go sit with Malcolm at dinners were not based in wanting banter with a
friend, but wanting to spend time with a crush?

How did he realize it was a crush to begin with?

He’d had his suspicions. After all, he was best friends with Archer. But it was difficult to determine
whether the difference in feelings was because Archer was and always had been his superior, or
whether the feelings for Malcolm ran deeper for a different reason…

So how did he find out?

Well… it was Malcolm himself. But not the Malcolm Trip knew. A Malcolm from the future… A
Malcolm part of one of many Enterprise crews they had come across so far. Their journey into
space really never went the way they thought it would.

Time travel?

Who knew that would be their greatest enemy from time to time? Who knew they would have
enemies to begin with when it came to a ‘peaceful mission of exploration’?

This particular Enterprise crew had been dragged through a wormhole to their time. Whether it was
a set future, no one knew. After all, they had also come across a future where Trip and T’Pol were
a couple with a son. Trip had adored that, and he had to admit that he wouldn’t have been against
his feelings pushing Trip toward T’Pol. But Malcolm…

Perhaps the future wasn’t all as set in stone as people pretended it was.

Trip was tasked to help out on the future Enterprise. Where his future version was, he dreaded
asking. For some reason, he always found himself to die young.
Trip really hoped the future was not set in stone.

But whatever the reason was for Trip’s future self not being there, it seemed to be an emotionally
charged topic. He had hinted at wanting to know, but Malcolm – the future Malcolm – kept finding
ways to switch the subject.

So, instead, Trip worked in silence, highly aware of the Chief in Security watching his every
move… but it wasn’t because Malcolm didn’t trust him. Even Trip still unaware of his feelings for
the man could read that much. It was a grieving… longing… look.

His task was to fix their warp engine enough that the same ‘problem’ occurred only one more time,
which would open a wormhole again and hopefully bring them back to their timeline. Whilst he
worked on this, Trip also took a mental note not to let this happen to his engine. He wasn’t
particularly keen on getting stranded in the wrong time.

Again.

Once finished, Trip had wiped his hands on his uniform and offered a handshake to Malcolm,
ready to go bid farewell to this version of Archer – but not wanting to just leave Malcolm without
saying a single word.

“I don’t need supervising around the ship. I worked here, remember?” joked Trip, unsure of
whether he was treading on any toes saying such a thing.

It was odd trying to be careful with what he said about his own… potential death?

This mission really was odd.

Malcolm didn’t shake his hand though. He stared at Trip for a long time, so long that the Florida
man slowly decided to just leave and return to his own Malcolm for some reassurance –

Which was when Malcolm leaned in and kissed him, long and passionately – as if this hadn’t
happened for years but had been on his mind the entire time.

“What was that?” Trip asked stupidly once the kiss had ended, but neither shifted away from each
other, staying close, toes touching.

“Guess three times,” joked Malcolm with a smirk. “I couldn’t let you leave without… at least a
proper goodbye. Not again.”

Trip offered a sympathetic look before smiling, reaching out to Malcolm’s fingers: “Well then, I
will speak for my future self and say that was the damn best goodbye I ever had.”

That was how Trip found out what his feelings for his fellow officer really were.

That was also coincidentally his first kiss with Malcolm, albeit a future Malcolm. Now he’d have
the confidence to perhaps go have that first kiss with his own version of Malcolm too.

Trip walked out of that engine room with a skip to his steps, smiling from ear to ear…

Perhaps some future things weren’t too bad if they were set in stone…
 Supernatural: Dean / Castiel - 'First Kiss'
Chapter Summary

There was no way that Dean would ever admit his feelings out loud to Castiel, so
when their first kiss happens “accidentally”… it’s perfect for them.

Chapter Notes

This is once again written a little bit more in the style of drabbles, exploring things a
bit more rather than straight out writing a oneshot. Hope you enjoy! :3

Dean and Cas’ first kiss had been an accident. A lucky accident, though, and one both had needed
to set things in motion.

Dean had gone to lean down and grab something from over Castiel’s shoulder; a beer that was on
the table in front of the angel. Dean did this a lot, leaning over the angel, always wanting some
excuse to be a little too close to Castiel. It was the only way Dean could allow himself to give in to
his deeper feelings, too scared to admit them out loud, or even to himself sometimes.

What if Castiel didn’t feel the same? What if Dean admitted it and the next day Castiel died? It
was not as if the Winchesters (especially Sam) had been lucky with their lovers’ ability to stay
alive. And Dean… after everything he had been through… wasn’t too sure of whether he could
handle the loss of yet another person so important to him.

As Dean leaned over Castiel’s shoulder, head close to the angel’s, Castiel had gone to say
something to Dean at the same time, turning his head.

And boom, their lips had met, slightly parted since Castiel had been mid-sentence and Dean had
gone to gasp in surprise at Castiel’s movement –

But it was a kiss nonetheless. Or at the very least, both had turned it into a kiss.

And if anything, their parted lips only served to deepen the kiss almost immediately.

The fingers Dean had managed to lay on the beer bottle tightened its hold whilst Dean did
everything in his power not to flee, to allow himself, now that he felt Castiel kiss him back, to give
in. The bottle could break under the strength of his grip, but he needed to ground himself. He
needed to ensure he stayed.

Because Dean needed this, and Castiel deserved it.

They finally touched. They finally kissed.

And then it was over when footsteps were heard approaching in the hallway.

Dean grabbed the bottle as if nothing happened, opened it and walked over to his chair.
Castiel went to awkwardly apologize, despite not feeling he wanted to apologize.

But Sam entered the room with his laptop before the angel could say anything, a look on his face
showing he had found a case for them all. The younger brother began to talk, eyes glued to the
screen and oblivious to the tension in the room.

As Sam spoke, Dean and Castiel glanced at each other one time. The angel relaxed seeing the look
in Dean’s eyes: there was no disgust or regret present in the hunter’s eyes… there was…

A gentle look. A little smile pushing the corners of Dean’s lips upwards…

They had had their first kiss.

And Dean would make sure it wouldn’t be their last.

 The Hobbit: Fìli / Kalâtha (OC) - 'First Kiss'
Chapter Summary

Nearing young adults, Fíli and Kalâtha, best friends since childhood, have started
realizing that they mean more to the other than just a friend. When Kal makes the first
move, they find out they weren’t alone. Oops!

Chapter Notes

Set at least 3 decades before the quest for Erebor! This is also the first appearance that
my sweet and strong Kalâtha makes!! She’s part of a story (a very long story) that I’m
in the process of drafting, so it’s been fun trying her out for this challenge.

Please note: I've been under the weather and the grammar in this is... not the greatest.
I'll edit at a later date! But I do apologize for that!

I hope you enjoy! :3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Their first kiss was back in the Blue Mountains, and Thorin had walked in on them. Fíli had asked
her to walk with her back to his home, wanting to show her his newest knife. It was late at night,
later than they had intended. But time passed so quickly when they were together… it felt like they
could spend eternity together and not get bored of each other.

Fíli sprinted inside, and Kalâtha stayed on the porch for just a little bit before he came rushing
back, door left slightly ajar. He was sure that his mother, his brother and uncle were asleep at this
point, that was how late it was. And surely Fíli was old enough now that no one worried and
waited up for him.

Surely…

So, he showed his knife off, and Kalâtha being a warrior herself adored it. She held it in her hands,
weighed its balance, and approved. Of course, getting her approval made Fíli feel quite good about
himself. Suddenly, getting the knife for his birthday didn’t feel all that special anymore. Suddenly,
all that was special about this knife was that it had been approved by his special someone: Kalâtha.

Dwarves loved only once.

He was sure this woman would be his once.

He was sure this woman already was his once.

 “I’ll treasure this knife even more knowing you approve of it.” She did that flustered thing he
adored. Where she wriggled slightly on the spot, fingers intertwining in front of her and teeth biting
her lip awkwardly.

“You are too kind,” she said through a smile.

“I speak only truth.”

“You speak poetry.”

“Truthful poetry.”

This time she bit her lip in a way he hadn’t seen before. He tilted his head before he could stop
himself, trying to figure out the signal she was sending him.

Luckily for him, in dwarven culture, women took the first step. Or at the very least, warriors like
Kalâtha took the first step. For sure.

Knowing what she wanted, she took it. Her fingers reached out to touch his cheeks and she guided
his lips over to hers. He didn’t for the life of him stop this – he’d imagined this far too much not to
try it out in real life.

Lips moving against each other, noses touching, the coolness of the metal of her nose-piercing
tickling his nose, his facial hair scratching her chin– it was perfect.

But it lasted far too short.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat behind them.

They broke apart in a hurry, flustered to be caught in a rather intimate moment. She saw who it was
first: Thorin. Quickly she let go of Fíli completely and stepped away from him with wide eyes that
were not of a warrior, but of a young girl caught by a parental figure, and their leader, doing
something a little naughty.

After all, they were young and not officially courting.

Fíli turned to see Thorin staring with a stern look in his eyes.

But he didn’t look particularly surprised either.

“You’re home late. Get inside, Fíli. Little one? Go home.”

“Yes, sir,” she said quickly in a whisper, brushing past Fíli and hurrying off the porch.

That hadn’t been the perfect way to share their first kiss, but suddenly Fíli had the confidence to try
again. And next time maybe it could be somewhere a little more private…

Chapter End Notes

Little one – I put this in italic to show it’s Thorin speaking Khuzdul. It’s his nickname
for her – to give a little bit of backstory, Thorin and his family basically raised her
despite her having parents of her own.
Thanks for reading!
 The Hobbit: Thorin / Bilbo - 'First Kiss'
Chapter Summary

Thorin’s plan had always been to leave Erebor in the hands of Fíli. What hadn’t been
part of his plan was to fall in love with a hobbit… So he makes a new plan – one that
requires him to move to Hobbiton…

Chapter Notes

NOTE: Uhhhh Thorin, Fíli and Kíli survived BOTFA. I don’t know what you’re
talking about.

Their romance does not start officially until after the quest. Until after the pining looks, after the
worry as the company underwent danger after danger, after the never-ending support despite
Thorin’s actions…

Thorin comes to Bag-end. But it doesn’t feel like a visit. There’s something else. Thorin is quiet.
Fidgety.

Though Bilbo doesn’t comment on it. It would be rude to do so to his guest, after all, and so he just
keeps feeding the dwarf food, spends time with him when possible and keeps his guest entertained.
The hobbit figured correctly that if Thorin wanted to talk, he would do so of his own volition
eventually.

Days into the visit, Thorin opens up. He reveals that he’s given the crown to Fíli. Toward the end
of Thorin’s reign, he was nothing more but a face to keep morale up whilst they built a life in
Erebor. Fíli and his brother were doing most of the work at this point. All of that was on purpose
though, assigned by Thorin so that he could… eventually… leave.

The dragon sickness was still lingering in Thorin’s mind, and with time it just got worse… When
Thorin had left the mountain for the first time all those months ago, he had realized that distance
away from the place and the gold had cleared his mind, even if just a little.

The further away, the better.

The calmer, the better.

The closer to Bilbo, the better – though he hadn’t said that to the hobbit… yet.

Bilbo had wondered where this was going. No – he hadn’t wondered. He had hoped. He had hoped
Thorin was going to ask him for a final favour.

And he had.

He asked to stay in the Shire until the end of his days.

Bilbo hadn’t hesitated to say yes. Maybe he’d answered a little too quickly, and so he had
backtracked a little and said: “Well, it’ll be difficult getting the other hobbits onboard but then
again, they don’t want to be rude so they won’t treat you any differently and besides I don’t really
care, ever since I came back from the quest I’ve been the weird one and- I’m babbling, aren’t I?”
He sighed. “Yes, Thorin. I would be honoured to have you stay here with me.”

There was a long silence after that. Thorin watched Bilbo, a smile on his lips that reminded Bilbo
far too much of the gentle, loving smile the dwarf had shared with the hobbit that one time in
Erebor before the Battle of Five Armies; that one time when Bilbo had gotten through to Thorin by
talking about his garden, where he would plant that little acorn... He had planted it too upon
returning to Hobbiton, and he and Thorin had watered the little growing sapling just that very
morning.

Thorin’s smile made butterflies appear in Bilbo’s stomach, just like it had last time. And he didn’t
mind the silence: it was comforting. Everything about Thorin was comforting, in all honesty.

And Bilbo wouldn’t mind if this stay ended in not just a very close friendship with Bilbo pining
after the dwarf. He would be happy just being in Thorin’s presence.

Thorin stood suddenly, placing his hands on either side of Bilbo’s face and gently kissing him.

That’s when Bilbo knew he wouldn’t have to just contend with being in Thorin’s presence as a
friend and roommate.

And he loved it.

 Dragon Age: Anders / f!Hawke / Justice - 'First Kiss'
Chapter Summary

Everyone knows the famous first kiss between Hawke and Anders… but what about
Hawke and Justice?

Chapter Notes

This one is more tuned toward Hawke x Justice! Hope you enjoyyy day 5 of this
event! It's slowly turning into more oneshot vibes... you can tell at what part of writing
for these events that I got inspired to just let things flow freely XD (and then some
days I was sick and it turns back to short drabble stories) - anyway, I'll let you read
now :3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hawke’s first kiss with Anders was intense, passionate, and long overdue. Anders had all but swept
her off her feet at finally giving in to her flirtations, finally giving in to his own feelings and
allowing himself to do what he hadn’t done for so long. All of that built up passion had been thrust
into that one kiss… and he hadn’t let go of Hawke since.

But that had been Anders. Not Justice. Hawke didn’t learn until much later that Justice had been
very against that kiss, and all other kisses that had come after. It shouldn’t come as too much of a
surprise, really, considering that Justice was… well, keener to serve out justice than love.

But whilst Justice’s presence had changed Anders ever so slightly, Anders’ presence had also
changed Justice ever so slightly. Not just through the burning desire to be free from an injustice
that had left Anders with scars that would never heal, but also through the capability to feel
something for humans. This had already been present in Justice, Hawke learned from Anders. In
Amaranthine, Justice had possessed the body of a dead warden who had had a wife. The love the
warden Kristoff had harboured for his wife had affected Justice and intrigued him.

He had wanted to learn about love. He had wanted to help the wife. He had felt envy at humans
able to feel such feelings.

Anders opened up the possibility for Justice to learn to feel.

And apparently, he had learned.

But Justice was still new to the sensations of the real world. Whilst possessing the dead warden he
had had to endure touches and other sensations. He had not liked it. In Anders, Justice could hide,
and his endurance toward the senses of the real world had faded away.

So he needed to learn again.

But he was willing.

Every so often, Justice would ask to be in control. When Justice asked, he was not present as an
angry, justice-craving spirit bordering on a demon of revenge. When he asked, he was just Justice
peeking out at the world and once more in control of a body.

Hawke definitely preferred this side of Justice.

When he was in control, Justice would try and learn to handle certain sensations. Hawke had
laughed quite a lot at Justice’s attempt to understand snow – something they apparently didn’t have
in the Fade. Nor did he very much appreciate the odd sensation of something so soft touching his
fingers, let alone melt into a different substance without his control. He had panicked and quickly
frozen it again with magic, staring at Hawke as she laughed, not understanding what was funny.

Their need to be on the move constantly to not get caught made finding new things for Justice to
sense easy. But Justice had yet to learn about love, the very thing he wanted to learn about.

A kiss was required to show love, no?

That required a lot of touching…

He wasn’t sure if he could do that.

But he would try. For Hawke. For himself. For Anders.

For them.

He asked to be in control again whilst they were out on the road, and Anders allowed him,
intrigued by the spirit’s nervous nature. Seeing the blue cracks forming on Anders’ skin, Hawke
had known who she was talking to, and she’d greeted the spirit with a smile and a quick recap of
where they were headed. They were walking on a narrow forest road, nearing a little village that
would have a warm inn, some food, and hopefully a shop or two to replenish their rations.

But Justice stopped her with a touch to her arm. She looked surprised at this, and Justice retrieved
his fingers awkwardly, staring at them for a bit as he took in the sensation.

That hadn’t felt like a touch to someone’s sleeve. That had felt like sparks?

Anders was quick to help the spirit by saying sometimes having feelings for someone could make
one feel that way. Maybe, Anders had said, his own feelings were being projected onto Justice. It
was, after all, still the same body despite Justice being in control.

Justice wasn’t so sure about that, and when he admitted that to Anders, the mage had let out a little
chuckle of relief. Relief? the spirit had asked. “Relief,” the mage had replied, “because sometimes
it feels awkward to have a relationship with you just joining for the ride. I’d love for you to… be
part of the ride. If… if you want to. Start with her though. We’ll see about me later.”

Justice felt humbled, in all honesty, to realize that Anders, perhaps, had not just accepted Justice
into his own body for the sake of keeping a friend alive.

“Are you alright, J?” Marian’s voice had brought Justice back to the matter at hand; Hawke.

“Yes. I was merely… Intrigued.”

“By?”

“You.”
 Hawke put on a smirk and sarcastically flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder. “I know, I’m
quite breath-taking.”

“You are.”

Marian was aware Justice was not… the best at understanding sarcasm. But the sincerity in his
words made Marian wonder whether he had understood it this time, and was pushing for a serious
conversation. So her smirk faltered, and she watched him with curious, green eyes.

“Well… Thank you.”

“I…” He took a step closer and reached out his fingers to her sleeve again. He watched his fingers,
wondering if he could see the sparks that he could feel. But they were just in his mind despite how
real they felt. He dared to let his fingers sprawl over her arm, gently moving up to her shoulder, to
her collarbone, back to her neck, up into her hair –

Marian stared, barely daring to breathe in fear that the touches would disappear, fearing this wasn’t
real but just a hallucination she could blow away with just the one breath – oh how she hadn’t been
aware just how hot Justice really was…

That was a lie. She had been perfectly aware from the very start. There was something about his
sheer devotion to the one cause he believed wholeheartedly in, mixed in with the tenderness of
keeping Anders perfectly safe at all times and the protective nature to keep any and all mages safe
(ehhh except, of course, when he lost control… but Marian was quick to teach him to get better at
that). The layers to this spirit devote to pretending he was nothing but justice was… it was just…
hot.

She wanted him to add her as a layer to him.

So, she did something she thought she would regret. She gave in to her own feelings and potentially
stepped over a very delicate boundary – she leaned in and kissed Justice. Passionately too. There
was nothing about this that would ease him into the intimacy.

Luckily, Justice, despite being completely overwhelmed, adored this particular overwhelming
feeling. The touches were a little much still for him, and he would need to take a long break from
being in control to recuperate… but it was worth it.

“Sorry-“ she whispered against his lips as she regained control of her own lust and tried to break
the kiss.

But Justice didn’t let her and followed her movements, pressing his lips back against hers.

Justice managed to stay out for a few more minutes, which he spent not parting from Marian’s lips,
before Anders returned in control. Slowly, the make-out session calmed down and the two stood
breathing heavily, holding each other in their arms.

Marian and Anders slowly laughed, giddy at the complex relationship they had just started, but
already knowing they would adore every single second of it.

Chapter End Notes

These characters (aka, the relationship, I suppose, and the way I write Justice) is part
of a series of oneshots and an upcoming story that I am working on! If you're
interested in following the progress for that, you can find it here:
Anders/Marian/Justice - Aching For You
 Dragon Age: Cullen / f!Inquisitor - 'First Kiss'
Chapter Summary

To both Cullen and the inquisitor, their first kiss on the battlements had been perfect.
But to Cullen, the intimacy of kissing her without interruption, without the hastiness of
needing to finish their conversation before the next meeting, was what the inquisitor
deserved from a first kiss.

Chapter Notes

We’re nearing the end of the first week for this! Which means tomorrow is the last
time I write for the prompt First Kiss, I hope you’re all enjoying so far! :3

For now though, let’s read about dear Cullen’s first-ish kiss with the inquisitor ;)

!! Please be aware that I haven’t written for Cullen in so so long… there was some
negativity and I got afraid of writing for him, so this was… a first attempt and you can
tell my writing is a little tense and curt. You can, actually, tell I was rather
uncomfortable. But this is a slow, tiny step in retaking a character I used to love, and
still love! So I’m working on feeling comfy again! But I apologize for the way this is
written. It went smoother for later prompts though! I’ve made some progress in feeling
comfortable again :3 yay!

The kiss on the battlements was their perfect first kiss. But if you ask Cullen, their first kiss as a
couple unable to be interrupted by their duties, was a week later.

During the week leading up to the second first kiss, Cullen had been losing sleep over the lack of
moments spent together… and the lack of more kisses.

Was it him? Had he not kissed her properly? Should he just make the first (or rather second) move?
Was it because it was the proper thing to do as the man in the relationship and she was waiting? Or
was she not sure about their relationship?

No, she had to be sure. The more he replayed the events on the battlements, the surer he became of
this. She had approached him first. She had initiated this romance, and if there was one thing
Cullen had learned about the Inquisitor, it was that if she didn’t want something, then she would
not take action upon it.

Oh hell… He needed to just take the second step and keep their romance going. He had fought
demons, commanded armies, overcome plenty of his own demons already – surely he could
manage this?

But he didn’t want any interrupting messengers finding them this time, so he came up with a
plan…
One he hoped was romantic.

Three gentle, almost unsure, knocks were heard on his door. He quickly rushed over but took a
breath to calm himself before opening the door.

She was there, armour from the day still on and a wide, surprised look on her face. In her gloved
fingers, she held the note Cullen had asked to be sent up to her chambers. It was dark, but the light
from inside did enough to highlight her beautiful features… and Cullen stared and smiled like a
buffoon, not letting her inside until she awkwardly cleared her throat, a shy smile on her lips.

“It told me to come to your office.” She waved the note around.

“Hm?” Cullen was still slightly in a daze, but soon collected himself enough to offer her a
response. “Oh yes, of course. I mean… Yes, I asked you over.” He stepped aside to let her in, and
she kept her gaze on him whilst she entered, still with a shy smile on her lips.

But her gaze was drawn away from him upon entering his office completely, noting what Cullen
had done: everywhere, candles were lit. In bookshelves, in corners, on his desk, on a lonely chair in
the middle of the room. It looked like a hundred little stars glimmering in the dark office. It was
beautiful.

“Oh…” But she wasn’t the greatest at expressing herself, a little like the commander. “I… This
is…”

“I hope you like it,” said Cullen awkwardly, closing the door behind them to give them some well-
deserved privacy.

“This must have taken you a while,” she replied, offering him a curious look.

He chuckled and awkwardly itched at the back of his neck. “Without magic, it takes some time,
yes…” There was a pause where Cullen slowly took in her features, her smile, and felt himself gain
some extra courage again. “But it was worth it.”

He stepped closer to her, gloved fingers reaching out to her cheek – but he stopped himself. Not for
any other reason than to remove his gloves, though, letting his fingers gently touch her skin which
seemed so much softer than he could ever have imagined.

He smiled as he noticed her mirroring him, removing her own gloves. Ever so gently, her fingers
reached up to his cheek too. Both touched gently, surprised at feeling the other’s skin, noting the
softness and comparing it to their fantasies.

The real thing was much nicer.

Staring into each other’s eyes, both touching the other’s cheek, they suddenly chuckled a little at
how absurd they might look. But it meant so much to them. They were alone. The door was closed.
It was dark outside, and no one would come and bother them. And neither had ever actually been
around the other without armour or gloves on.

This was a tiny bit of progress in getting to know each other outside of their titles.

Slowly, Cullen leaned in closer, taking the first step and capturing her lips for the first time without
interruptions…
 Dragon Age: Alistair / f!Warden - 'First Kiss'
Chapter Summary

Alistair and the warden did not have their first kiss in camp for all to see. Their first
kiss was… a little messier… but what do you expect when romancing Alistair Theirin?

Chapter Notes

I had way too much fun with this XD enjoyyy day 7 and the last of the ‘first kiss’
prompts!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The group had packed up that morning to continue their journey to Denerim. Alistair was sure that
someday there would be heroic tales about the Warden and his companions saving Thedas from
the Blight – but he doubted this would be added to those stories.

Oh traveling wasn’t so bad, and here and there they encountered some Darkspawn and such to take
their minds off their aching feet.

But days like this one… were just miserable in general, and Alistair doubted even Darkspawn were
out in this weather.

Rain. Wind. More rain. More wind. Thunder somewhere far off in the distance.

And mud.

So much mud. One couldn’t even see Alistair was wearing silverite armour anymore. He was that
dirty.

Eventually, the Warden seemed to be very done traveling in this weather, and she stopped the
group to let them take shelter in a nearby cave. Although the cave was tiny and Alistair had no way
of ignoring Morrigan, it was ten times better than being out there in the awful weather. Besides,
Wynne conjured up a magical fire to warm and dry them all.

Well… to warm and dry everyone but the Warden and Alistair.

He would do anything for her at this point, despite not having admitted his feelings for her yet, but
he still had been a little pouty when she’d asked him to come along and hunt for food.

Couldn’t she have asked Zevran?

But it gave him an opportunity to be alone with her.

And he would take any time to be alone with her. He was sure nothing would happen though… she
was far too heroic, strong and sensible to fall for someone like him; a halfwit, as Morrigan enjoyed
pointing out every second she got. But there was still a tiny bit of hope left because sometimes…
just sometimes… he caught her smiling and chuckling at his stupid jokes.

After trudging through mud and rain for at least an hour, they spotted a deer. In this weather,
Alistair was surprised the animal was out and about, but it was a good thing for them; the deer
could barely hear them over the sounds of rain and wind.

Unfortunately, luck had not been on the Warden’s or Alistair’s side since before the Blight started.

And the deer did spot them, looking over at them for no apparent reason other than just bad luck.

The Warden readied their bow. In a futile and… stupid attempt to try and help, Alistair had
attempted to charge to the side to stop the deer from escaping that way – but he slipped and fell,
face first in a giant puddle of mud.

Meanwhile, the Warden had noticed his intent and had shifted her bow to aim to where the deer
would run off to, hoping this would work so she could settle her rumbling stomach. But the
Warden had not noticed Alistair falling, nor had she heard it over the heavy fall of rain. So when
she started sidestepping to get a good look at the deer –

She stumbled on Alistair’s boots and tripped herself.

Alistair, mortified at what he essentially was getting the two into, had attempted to spin around and
grab her – but that hadn’t been a viable plan in the slightest. He’d only managed to get her to not
knock her head, but the rest of her body fell straight into the mud right next to him. Mud splashed
onto his face, forcing him to close his eyes and spit some out.

There was a brief moment of silence between the two where Alistair didn’t dare open his eyes to
see her scolding look… all he did was continue to cradle her head awkwardly, almost frozen on the
spot like a deer caught in headlights.

Then he felt her fingers wipe away the mud from his eyelids. He dared open his eyes and looked at
her with immediate guilt-ridden eyes… only to find her smiling widely at him.

“You’re such a klutz…” she said. But the smile didn’t make her words mean, if anything, they
made her words… almost loving… warm…

He blinked in surprise. “Sorry about that.” He shifted to let go of her head but found her lean
against his touch instead. He stared, unsure of whether this was a dream – maybe he had hit his
head? Surely she wouldn’t…

But then those eyes looked back at him again, watching him for any sign of rejection…

When Alistair gave none, both simultaneously leaned in and kissed each other – briefly. Very
briefly because the mud that entered their mouths upon kissing made both stop to spit it back out
again… In turn, that made them laugh. Alistair found her glancing at him with eyes still searching
for any sign of rejection though, and so, he reached out to reassure her, wiping her lips clean of
mud and leaning in again for a proper kiss…

Their first kiss.

His first kiss.

Her first kiss.

And the start of a relationship that would stay strong despite all they had to endure.
Chapter End Notes

I just want to say a BIG thank you to all for supporting this so far! you're comments
and kudos and shares are what motivates me to keep going throughout the month! so
thank you so much!!

Alright, onto week 2 we go now which is: 'Nurse You Back To Health' prompt! :3
same order of couples as with this week :3 lesss goooo
 Star Trek Enterprise: Trip / Malcolm - 'Nurse You Back to Health'
Chapter Summary

During an away mission, Trip gets badly hurt and suffers heavy blood loss… Malcolm
tries anything he can to keep Trip awake until the Enterprise can get to them.

Chapter Notes

This is the first entry for the new week! New week means a new prompt: Nurse You
Back to Health. Woop let’s gooo :3

This follows on from the previous week’s drabble / oneshot (and this one turned more
into a oneshot too!) – i.e. Trip knows Malcolm reciprocates the romantic feelings, but
only because a future Malcolm has admitted it. The two of them have yet to admit it to
each other – until now hehehehe

TW: teeny tiny mentions of blood.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It was meant to be just a brief away mission. Go down there, collect some ore samples of interest,
and leave again. With the majority of the science department occupied with trying to understand
these strange space anomalies that kept shaking the Enterprise, Trip and Malcolm had been
assigned this mission. Neither had complained, much to Archer’s amusement, to having some time
alone.

But as it almost always does, something went wrong. The shuttlepod got attacked by an unknown
alien space craft, life support and two engines almost immediately being taken out.

“The planet’s gravity is pulling us back! I can’t get us back to the Enterprise… not before we
suffocate to death.” Trip had yelled out. Immediately, the two had made the decision to crash land
on the surface of the planet they had attempted to leave.

It was a rough landing, shaking them around in their seats, electricity buzzing from broken
interfaces, debris falling around them… and then things got quiet as the shuttle came to a stop.

Malcolm breathed out. He hated these things… it made him a little queasy, his motion sickness
playing up. But that wasn’t the worst part of it.

They were stuck, the Enterprise apparently having been this unknown alien’s target, Hoshi’s voice
informed Malcolm. Too occupied to come down and help just yet, Malcolm and Trip were left on
their own…

“At least we have oxygen,” sighed Malcolm, taking off his belt to stand and walk back to the door,
opening it to let in the oxygen. The suns were shining outside, and Malcolm sighed at the prospect
of having to endure more of this planet’s heat. He’d looked forward to a cold shower. “You think
the Enterprise will be okay?”

He turned his head to glance at his Commander and best friend, frowning at the unusual silence
that was coming from Trip. The man always had a quick comment about everything.
“Commander?”

“Ah shit…” breathed Trip before coughing.

Malcolm was by Trip’s side within seconds, staring down at the debris piercing through Trip’s
abdomen, and the already large stain of blood growing larger on Trip’s uniform. Fingers curled
tightly around the debris piercing him, Trip glanced to Malcolm with a pale face, “Let’s… hope it
doesn’t take them too long.”

As the minutes ticked by, Malcolm got more and more worried. Removing the debris from Trip
had been easy, and the best course of action due to the lack of viable arteries in that place – though,
he hoped he hadn’t damaged any organs instead. He tried everything: putting pressure on the
wound, tying ripped off pieces from his uniform around the wound – anything, but it wasn’t
working. The medical kit was damaged in the crash. And Trip’s eyes were starting to close.

He needed to keep Trip awake, that was all Malcolm had on his mind. He needed to stay awake.
That was basic medical training when someone had lost a lot of blood.

So he tried some games. “I spy” “Geography”. But Trip was too tired. Nothing was waking him up
properly. Panic settled in, which was very unlike the trained Chief of Security. This was… not
professional.

His feelings were not professional either though. Lately, Malcolm had found himself breaking
more of his own personal rules than he’d ever imagined he would in his life. He supposed that was
what love did to someone… though… he hadn’t really admitted any of this to Trip yet.

Aside from his feelings for the man, Malcolm figured that was what made this even more of an
intense moment. If Trip… if he didn’t make it back to the Enterprise, then Malcolm would never
find a moment or the courageous to tell Trip either.

“You look worse than me…” sassed Trip weakly, eyes glancing at Malcolm through heavy eyelids.

“You have to make it back, Commander. The…” Malcolm swallowed harshly. “The Enterprise
needs you.”

Trip sighed heavily. “This isn’t particularly romantic, is it?”

“Pardon me?” This was the blood loss talking, right? Or maybe Malcolm himself had misheard
after he’d just thought about his own feelings for Trip. “I think I just misheard you, Commander…
Did you say… ‘romantic’?”

Trip chuckled, but it was short lived as he groaned in pain. Before he knew what he was doing,
Malcolm had reached out and grabbed Trip’s hand.

Romantic?

“Be careful. Just… stay awake for me.”

“For you?” asked Trip. Despite the blood loss, despite the pain, this man still managed to be flirty.
Normally, Malcolm might have found himself replying equally as flirtatiously back, especially
considering he definitely wanted to flirt with Trip… but that was also the thing: it was Trip. He’d
never really thought his confession would go well, and yet here he was, wondering whether Trip
might have just confessed something himself.

“I think the blood loss is affecting you, Commander,” chuckled Malcolm, unsure of why he was
dodging this when he truly, truly wanted it.

“No, it’s not.” Trip, despite Malcolm basically rejecting him, continued to smile slightly. “And I
know you’re hoping it’s not, too.”

Malcolm could only raise a questioning eyebrow.

“You told me. Not you, but the other you.” Trip coughed a little, eyes closing in fatigue.

“Now I know the blood loss is affecting you.” Perhaps if he kept Trip talking about this, he would
learn the truth and keep the Commander awake long enough to survive this.

“The future you…” Trip forced his eyes open, curiously glancing to Malcolm as he said: “We
kissed.” The end of his mouth tugged upwards slightly in a proud little smirk.

Malcolm stared in shock.

Then Malcolm watched in horror as Trip’s let out a sigh that sounded far too much like he was
giving up, eyes closing. “Commander!” Malcolm squeezed the hand he was holding, then shook
his arm. “Stay with me now. You cannot admit to such a thing and then decide to die.”

Trip’s mouth twitched into another little smirk, but his eyes remained closed.

There was no proper logic behind what Malcolm did then. There was no proper logic behind a lot
that was going on in Malcolm’s mind anyway right now. It was pure panic and confusion – he’d
practiced how he would admit to his feelings so many times now that this was just… not how he’d
imagined it.

But he still leaned in and kissed Trip.

The touch to his lips was what made Trip’s eyes open again. A sudden rush of adrenaline forced
him awake, staring at Malcolm intensely when the Chief of Security pulled away.

“What was that?” Trip asked dumbfoundedly.

“Could you not tell?” Malcolm chuckled, relieved Trip was back. “I’ll admit I haven’t had much
practice but-“

“No, no –“ Trip smirked. “I was… I just was not expecting it.”

“Just stay awake. Enterprise shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Will there be more kisses waiting for me?” Trip asked a question that sounded quite silly, yet his
face was more serious than Malcolm had ever seen before.

It was not a question about kisses. It was a question about them.

Malcolm nodded his head, chest light and joyful despite the gaping wound in Trip’s abdomen.
“You better make it though.”

“If there’s kisses waiting for me, I’ll conquer death itself.”
 He couldn’t help but laugh at Trip’s words. Alright, so that’s the type of boyfriend Trip was going
to be?

He could live with that.

Chapter End Notes

I suppose technically Malcolm doesn't do much nursing here but... he does with that
kiss?
 Supernatural: Dean / Castiel - 'Nurse You Back to Health'
Chapter Summary

When Dean is sick, Castiel does not leave his side one bit, and Dean might take a little
bit of advantage of that, wanting his angel close by for as long as he can. To keep
Castiel nearby this time, Dean asks Castiel for a story from his past…

Chapter Notes

This has literally no plot. It’s just exploring the dynamic between the two, and what I
can imagine they do for each other – with the prompt of Dean being sick slightly in
the background! Hope you enjoy :3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Cas worried A LOT over Dean whenever he was sick. The Winchesters didn’t get sick a lot. They
sometimes got a cold here and there, but that was nothing unusual.

To Castiel, though, it is. For some reason, Castiel seems to panic if Dean gets sick (but leaves Sam
to just drink more orange juice when it happens to him). He gets overprotective. He keeps Dean in
his room, he feeds him soup, and he offers heat pads, stays to watch Scooby Doo with Dean until
the hunter falls asleep, holds his hand through the nights as Dean tries to breathe through his stuffy
nose…

And Dean?

The only time Dean complains is when Sam is nearby to judge Dean. To Sam, who still doesn’t
know there has even been a kiss shared between angel and hunter, Dean is taking advantage of his
cold and a doting angel who has seen humanity live through plagues and probably easily thinks the
worse of any little virus.

The reality is, though, that Dean just enjoys any excuse to be closer to Castiel physically. Whether
that is leaning over his shoulder to get something in front of the angel rather than walk around him,
or whether that means playing up a common cold a little extra… or pretending breathing is much
more difficult through the night so that Castiel will hold his hand…

Anything… just to have Castiel close by.

“I can’t sleep,” Dean grunts. He’s well aware that it’s because he’s been playing up this cold so
much, taking naps after naps, lying in bed as Castiel brings him food and drink… his body was just
not tired anymore.

Castiel, who was sat beside Dean’s bed, deep in thought, glances at Dean. “Are you in pain?”
A wave of amusement goes through Dean, causing the hunter to smirk a little. The lights are off,
the room dark, but Dean knows Castiel can see the smirk; a perk of not being a human. So he
quickly glances over at the figure of shadows he knows is Castiel and offers a reassuring look. “I’m
fine, Cas. I just can’t sleep.”

“You’re not fine,” grumbles Castiel, shifting to sit on the bed. Dean tenses in surprise as a cold
hand touches his forehead. “You still have a fever.”

“Oh…” Dean frowns and relaxes. “Well, I guess I just can’t sleep. Wanna tell me a story, Cas?” It
was mainly a joke based on how perchance childish Dean’s behaviour could get to ensure Castiel’s
full attention.

“What kind of story?” But of course Castiel took it seriously.

Well… Dean didn’t really mind hearing a story either.

“I dunno…” Dean shrugged. “Something from your past?”

“My… my past?” Castiel seemed a little shocked at that. “I don’t think a lot of my past makes
sense to you.”

“Why?”

“It’s… I spent most of it in an angelic form, shapeless, bright as a star, together with my brothers
and sisters.”

“Right…” Dean mulled it over, realizing this might sound offensive to the angel, but he gave it a
shot anyway: “Well, I dunno, dumb it down a bit?”

“Dumb…” Castiel hesitated, “… dumb it down?”

“Yeah. What were Sunday dinners like?”

Castiel stayed silent. Dean was very aware of the fact that the angel still had his hand on Dean’s
forehead. Neither cared, it seemed. It was quite nice…

“We don’t eat.” The pure honesty in Castiel’s voice mixed with the confusion toward Dean’s
request made the hunter chuckle.

“Alright, my bad. Then… I dunno, what was your first pet?”

Another long silence.

“A dog.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, turning his head to glance at the shadows that were Castiel. The angel
shifted his hand to rest on the pillow next to Dean instead. “A dog? You just told me you lived
your life as a blob of light, and now you’re telling you had a dog?” Was Castiel dumbing things
down for him?

“It wasn’t a very nice dog.” That only confused Dean more. “It was very angry. Father said that a
friend of His had given it to us, for safekeeping. He offered the dog to me, no one else.
Apparently…” Castiel paused. It was only then that Dean realized that all his words were carefully
thought through – evidently, Castiel was ‘dumbing’ this down. Dean smiled a little at that. There
truly was nothing this angel wouldn’t at least try to do for him. “Apparently there was a specific
 warmth and attachment inside of me.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means…” Castiel paused again and Dean wished he could see in the dark too, to check what his
angel’s facial expressions were telling him. “It means I help too much, but not in a bad way. It
means I am capable of forming attachments alike humans, which in turn can aid creatures of
anger.”

Dean was surprised to find Castiel’s fingers suddenly touching his hair, ever so slightly brushing
through it. Surprised, and a little offended. Was Castiel implying Dean was a creature of anger?

The only reason Dean didn’t react to it… was because it was kinda true.

“And it means I get too easily attached to people… or in this case, dogs.”

Dean was aware of that. Whilst Castiel might try and do whatever he could for Dean whilst the
hunter was both sick and not, Dean would try and ensure that his angel didn’t fall into any traps;
didn’t get used by others through the sheer kindness Castiel hade within him – nor would Dean let
himself hurt Castiel ever again. The angel was attached to him… and Dean had to be careful not to
hurt the angel’s delicate love.

“What did you do for the dog?”

“I helped it not be so angry. Father sent it back to earth… and it nearly ate the planet. I failed.”
Dean was startled by that, staring up at what he assumed was Castiel’s face. “You think I am
joking.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not. Once you feel better, you might be able to research who I’m talking about.”

“I’ll just ask Sam, no offense.” Castiel chuckled at Dean’s reply.

“Until then…” Castiel’s hand stilled in Dean’s hair. “Sleep…”

Whatever angelic powers Castiel was using suddenly made Dean insanely relaxed to the point of
sleepy. He wanted to ask more questions about the dog, in all honesty, but found himself instead
closing his eyes and dreaming of dogs, all the while able to reach out and touch Castiel’s hand or
leg if Dean needed to…

Yeah… This was worth the judging looks from his brother. It was worth being looked at as a
spoiled baby.

So worth it.

Chapter End Notes

Whoever can guess what this 'dog' was gets 10 points XD

HINT: it's from a certain mythologyyyy and MAY have had the shape of a dog like
creature
 The Hobbit: Fíli / Kalâtha (OC) - 'Nurse You Back to Health'
Chapter Summary

Kalâtha gets sick on a regular basis, more than others in the Blue Mountains.
Whenever she does get sick, Fíli and his family take care of her.

Chapter Notes

This is an OC I’m using in a story I’m currently still drafting. To understand her: she’s
half-dwarf, she’s around Kíli’s age, Thorin basically raised her despite her living with
her own father.

For the rest about Kal, you will just have to read the upcoming story (whenever that
gets written XD ) ;) shameless marketing here XD

This is set before the quest for Erebor, and Kal and Fíli are a little younger!

I hope you enjoy!

Kalâtha gets sick a lot. As only half-dwarf, what doesn’t ail a dwarf ails her. Whether that is getting
cold faster, or getting a cold faster, doesn’t matter.

It makes her look a little weak sometimes, but no one treats her any different. Her skills as a
warrior outweigh any other physical ailments she has, and to everyone around her, she’s just as
strong as them. Besides, she’s part of their tight knitted community in the Blue Mountains, and no
one wants to see her treated badly despite her lack of a beard – no one wants to, because she’s
clearly in the dark about her heritage, and telling her would surely break her heart.

That doesn’t mean, though, that no one notices that she gets sick so much. There is a common
gossip that it happens because her father neglects her so much… but no one dares approach the
subject in fear of the butcher’s wrath.

Except for Thorin: “Go to her, Fíli. Mahal knows her father won’t help her. If he bothers you, come
straight home and I’ll give him a talking to.”

Fíli doesn’t need telling twice, of course. He basically rushes through the Blue Mountains, a little
bag slung over his shoulder with supplies all ready to help her get back on her feet quicker (and
some soup his mother had made for Kalâtha with the words ‘that bastard isn’t going to be offering
her food, take this, make sure she eats it all’). He kept his mother’s words in his memory, knowing
it would make Kal smile a little to hear Dís’ common anger toward her father. It apparently was
endearing to Kal to hear someone call her father a bastard behind his back. Endearing, perhaps, and
a little relieving to know she wasn’t the only one thinking it.

He knocks but no one answers. This isn’t unusual though, and he dares to step inside without an
invitation. Walking up to her room, he knocks there instead and hears a croaky little ‘yes’ being
uttered before he steps inside.

She’s curled up in bed, eyes closed and a pout on her lips. The curtains are drawn and the room is
quiet, but the miserable look on her scrunched-up face hidden beneath layers of blankets is still
visible to him.

He offers her a sympathetic smile.

“I’ve got some soup.”

“Is it your mum’s?” she asks quietly, eyes opening to reveal tired, dull ones. He nods with another
smile and walks over to the bed.

“Where’s your father?”

“Out somewhere… I haven’t seen him for a few days… maybe hunting… He left when… I said I
wasn’t feeling good…” Her sentences are all cut short by having to take pauses to breathe. “Don’t
blame him.”

He reaches out to stroke some hair out of her face in worry. “I blame him,” he says, and she smiles
a little.

“Have you had enough water?”

She shrugs.

Annoyed with the man supposed to care for her, Fíli plops down on the bed and nods his head,
deciding on something: “I’ll stay with you then. ‘Till you’re better.” If he could pick her up, move
her into his own home and take care of her himself for the rest of their lives, he would…

But it was a little too soon to even try and do such a thing – no one would approve of two young
dwarves moving in together. He was, however, determined not to let her look at any other man. He
was going to win her over (unaware that he already had a long time ago).

Noticing Fíli is deep in thought, brow furrowed in worry, she wriggles closer to him and reaches
out a weak hand to his knee. The touch causes his gaze to shift to her again, and their gaze meet.
Any and all worries disappear from Fíli’s mind when their eyes meet… She looks sick, of course,
but there’s a twinkle of admiration in her eyes that soothes Fíli into realizing she’s not as bad off as
she looks… and… he thinks… the admiration might not be just because he’s there to help her…

“Thank you…”

Fíli smiles. “Anytime.”

 The Hobbit: Thorin / Bilbo - 'Nurse You Back to Health'
Chapter Summary

Whilst Bilbo aids Thorin whenever his Dragon Sickness plays up, Thorin also finds
himself in need of aiding Bilbo… when something ‘precious’ bothers the hobbit,
Thorin finds out how Bilbo escaped Goblin Town.

Chapter Notes

yall this turned a little dark – but not too dark for any warnings. I had the idea and ran
with it – and it turned pretty long o.o I got carried away! It's a little twist away from
the 'nurse you back to health' idea: so not physical health, but mental health! :3

Hope you enjoy!

With Thorin in Bag-end, Bilbo enjoyed the quiet life in the comfort of their home. Each day
proved to be a new adventure when sharing life with a dwarf and someone he loved, but not every
adventure was as good as the other.

Whilst Thorin had handed over the throne to Fíli and moved as far away from the gold and
treasures that sickened his mind as possible, Thorin still had bad days. He’d had them in Erebor
too, but more often than in Bag-end which at least was a plus. Bilbo remembered what Thorin’s
family and friends would do for the dwarf when such days did happen, and he’d try to copy it to the
best of his ability.

The main idea behind all the various things Bilbo did to help Thorin on such days was to distract
him. Distract him from the dark thoughts, the haunting tensions, and the sickening obsessional
anxiety to get back to the gold…

Bilbo’s tactics were to have as many chores to do as possible. Little ones, so that they could have
breaks in between for food and drink. They’d do laundry, hang sheets up in the garden. They’d
dust shelves high up which only Thorin could reach. They’d re-organize that one cabinet in the
kitchen that was a mess. They’d cook enough to give some to the Gamgees, as a thank you for
helping out in the garden from time to time. They’d go to the market to restock their storage.
They’d repot some of the indoor plants.

And to top it off, they’d walk down to the river in the late afternoon and have tea there, listening to
the water trickling by serenely. Sometimes Bilbo would take him down to where the children
played so he could tell grand stories of dwarven heroics to fascinated little hobbits, but not that day.

That particular day, Bilbo kept their chores to things they’d do just the two of them. Because
unfortunately, that particular day, Bilbo himself was feeling a little out of it too.

He masked it, though. He always masked it, unaware that Thorin was starting to get suspicious of
what Bilbo wasn’t telling him.
So when the worst was over for Thorin, and the two sat in front of the fireplace in their smial
silently reading their books, Thorin was feeling okay enough to notice Bilbo’s overall silence that
day.

He didn’t comment on it yet, aware these days could be heavy for the hobbit… seeing someone
you love so much hurt and change weighed heavy on the heart… But that didn’t just count for
Bilbo. It also counted for Thorin. And even if Bilbo’s silence was due to Thorin’s bad day, which
he could do nothing about and was well aware Bilbo didn’t blame him for, the dwarf still wanted
to help…

So as they sat by the fire in the evening, each in an armchair sipping tea, Thorin had to ask.
“Amrâlimê?”

“Hm?” Bilbo asked, gazing up from his book to Thorin.

“What’s the matter?”

Bilbo nearly choked, but managed to play it cool. He tore his gaze away from Thorin, cleared his
throat and glanced back to his book, turning a page. “Nothing. How are you feeling?”

“I am feeling better.” Thorin offered a warm smile. “Thanks to you. So let me help you too.”

Bilbo put on a pretence, raising his eyebrows and pouting his lips as he pretended to figure out
what Thorin meant. “No… Nope. There’s nothing wrong with me.” He laughed, but it felt fake
even to him.

Thorin did nothing but watch the hobbit, and Bilbo awkwardly shifted in his chair and moved his
gaze to the fire, hoping that if he acted like the conversation was over, Thorin would drop it.

But the fire wasn’t helping him.

It sounded odd… but sometimes he thought he felt… heavy when he looked into the fire. He’d
never had this. It was only since the quest for Erebor that this had occurred. At first he thought
maybe he was having some form of anxiety. After all, there had been a dragon after him sprouting
fire.

And, perhaps in the beginning, that had been it.

But the more time that passed with Bilbo carrying… it… the heavier things started to get. And the
heavier the presence of fire felt.

Like there was something… there. The same presence as in his pocket. Something secret…
searching… something hot reaching out to him to burn his mind into ashes and rise from them to
take over Bilbo’s entire being. He felt watched. Never really alone… something was always
searching for him…

Just like Thorin was searching for answers with his gaze now.

“Stop…” Bilbo frowned and closed his eyes. “Just stop looking at me.”

These weren’t the words of his hobbit and Thorin frowned in grave concern. He watched, despite
his beloved’s request not to, as Bilbo placed a shaking hand over his shirt’s pocket, right over his
heart. It gave some mixed signals, and Thorin only grew even more worried.

He hadn’t really asked where they ought to go in Hobbiton if one of them ever got sick. Where was
the nearest healer?

“Bilbo?”

The hobbit stared into the fire, no longer blinking. The book Bilbo was reading fell to the floor
with a clatter, damaging some pages. Normally Bilbo would curse and mutter if something like that
happened to one of his precious books – but not now. He didn’t even notice it.

“Bilbo?”

“Do you hear it too?” he whispered in response, eyes not looking away from the fire still.

“Hear what?”

“The whispers…”

Thorin threw the blanket he had over his legs off him and crouched down by Bilbo, gently daring
to reach out to Bilbo’s shaking hand over his heart.

That had been a mistake and Bilbo tensed and jerked away from Thorin’s touch. The dwarf only
held up his hands, not taking this personally.

Something was wrong.

Something his beloved had not told him about.

“Bilbo? What’s wrong?”

“Wrong question.” Bilbo finally looked at Thorin, eyes wide, “You should ask me something
else.”

Thorin grew quite confused at that, frowning as he continued to watch his hobbit. “What question,
Bilbo?”

There was a long pause, the sound of fire crackling away in the fireplace the only thing one could
hear in the room. Then… quietly, Bilbo whispered:

“What have I got in my pocket?”

For a second, Thorin thought he saw the light from the fire behind him blaze, as if something had
reacted to Bilbo’s words. The hobbit, in return, seemed to snap out of something, brow furrowing
almost as if he was in pain, breathing laboured as he closed his eyes in a panic.

His hand dropped from his chest and reached out to Thorin, who didn’t hesitate to grab his hand.

“Are you alright?” asked Thorin in concern.

The hobbit nodded, albeit hesitantly, whilst he tried to regain his breathing. “I-I-I just… I just need
a moment.”

Thorin nodded and gave his hobbit just that. He stayed crouched where he was, not wanting to
provoke any triggers by touching too much or moving around the room whilst Bilbo calmed back
down. Instead, he held onto Bilbo’s hand where the hobbit was squeezing tightly, trying to regain
his composure.

“Oh Thorin…” Bilbo finally whispered, agony written all over his face and eyes slightly red from
held back tears once he opened them. “I don’t know what I’ve done…”

“What do you mean?” Thorin asked hesitantly, worry latching onto his heart.

“I… There’s something that I haven’t told you. That I haven’t told anyone. Gandalf managed to
guess it, I think, but… but I don’t think he was right. I don’t think this is anything… good.” Bilbo
swallowed thickly. “There’s a reason I escaped Goblin Town unnoticed by the guards. There’s a
reason I could sneak into Smaug’s lair without him seeing.”

“You’re a hobbit,” tried Thorin, “you are very light on your feet.”

“Yes. And no.” Bilbo sighed through his nose, and dared reach into his pocket. This was the man
he loved, the man who would support him through more of these bad days… and oh if more of
these bad days felt like they were approaching… So he took out the ring he’d gotten from Gollum,
and held it up between them for Thorin to see. “This is how I did it. A magic ring.”

Thorin backed off a little bit, but never let go of Bilbo’s hand. “Magic rings are not toys…” warned
Thorin darkly. The few things Thorin had heard of magic rings were not the best. Some were lost
to dragons’ digestive systems. Some were lost to darker forces. And some corrupted… Whether
hobbits could withstand corruption, Thorin did not know and the fear that brought the dwarf only
further deepened the frown in Thorin’s brow.

Bilbo dared a little chuckle, but it was a dry, sad one. “Yes… Gandalf said something similar.”

“If a wizard cautions you to it…” But the dwarf didn’t finish his sentence. Bilbo’s face had fallen
into sadness. “There’s more to it.”

“I can’t let go.” Bilbo stared at Thorin anxiously. “I can’t part with it. It… It does things to me.
Corrupts me. I… I can fight it. But I cannot let it go.”

“Do you need me to hide it?”

“No.” The reply came so quickly, and with such a dark tone to his voice, that Thorin never again
dared to even ask such a thing. He also, immediately, knew that if Thorin should touch the ring…
Bilbo might succumb to the same, dangerous hatred that Thorin had succumbed to in relation to the
Arkenstone.

Thorin understood. He was scared, and worried… but he understood.

“Then…” Thorin looked away from the ring, not watching as Bilbo put it back into his pocket
securely. “When it is affecting you, you let me know. We have the same deal.”

“But Thorin this is just a ring-“

“I can see it, Bilbo. You should… you should have seen yourself earlier. This is no ordinary
sickness.” Thorin leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Bilbo’s knuckles. “As you help me, as
you have made me promise to tell you when I need help, you tell me. Let me help you too.”

Bilbo considered it for a long while, and the dwarf worried that Bilbo was going to deny him this,
that this would become their first argument (outside of the petty ones that came from Thorin’s
stubbornness).

But then the hobbit nodded his head, ever so slightly. He still looked sad, though, and Thorin
slowly stood. “Come, Master Burglar.” He tugged at Bilbo’s hand, offering a gentle, but also
slightly mischievous, smile. “Let us go to bed.”
“To bed? But it isn’t even past nine yet!”

Thorin’s smile turned into a smirk. “When we are finished, it will be long past nine, I promise.”
Bilbo still looked a little confused, so Thorin continued. “Let me help you forget for a little while.”

Realizing what the dwarf meant, Bilbo smiled despite himself. Oh, so that was going to be
Thorin’s approach to helping and distracting?

He could handle that…

He could definitely handle that.

At least he didn’t have to handle this burden alone anymore…

 Dragon Age: Anders / f!Hawke / Justice - 'Nurse You Back to Health'
Chapter Summary

When Marian Hawke feels sad, Anders and Justice do anything in their power to
always make her feel better.

Chapter Notes

I’m doing a slightly different take on the idea of nursing someone back to health:
namely the idea of making someone smile again when they’re down or sad.

TW: grief, spoilers for ACT 2!!, mention of character death.

Anders knew Marian was struggling. She always struggled on the anniversary of her mother’s
death, and it never got any easier for her.

Each year, Anders would try and be there for her in whatever way she’d need. Whether that was a
day of silence, a day of hugs, a day of finding things to hit – anything.

This year, though, she was quiet. He assumed what she needed was a day of silence. He had done
that before.

But this didn’t feel like a day of silence. Marian stayed sitting on a chair in their little cottage
they’d recently acquired, staring out the window. It was not normal for her. When she needed a day
of silence, she would go about her day like normal just without talking. This was… different.

Anders watched her, unsure of what to do or whether he should ask her. He didn’t want to disturb
her or upset her…

Justice whispered in his ear. He’d recently begun to feel genuinely comfortable with touches,
kisses and the relationship he, Anders and Marian had created. So although Anders wasn’t
surprised Justice wanted to try and make Marian feel better, he was surprised about the way Justice
wanted to make Marian feel better.

This wasn’t Anders’ way. He was romantic, yes, but more in a case of… making his beloved
laugh, or cooking a nice meal, gentle gestures of care to keep her health in check.

What Justice suggested was…

A new level of romance Anders wasn’t sure about.

But he walked over to Marian anyway, prompted by the spirit in his body, and offered a hand to
her. He remained silent, waiting for Marian to notice. Her confused eyes didn’t prompt Anders to
explain. Instead he smiled. Carefully, Marian placed her hand in his.

He pulled her over to the living room, where there was enough space, and also where there was a
large mirror in the corner. Anders, still holding her hand, turned her to the mirror. She saw herself
and Anders standing in the middle of the living room, but that image soon switched to her and
Justice instead. She turned her head, but saw Anders there, smiling knowingly at her. But in the
mirror, it was Justice, and he was watching her. Slowly, he turned and offered both his hands to
Marian. She watched before turning herself, Anders following along. The image of Justice in the
mirror pulled Marian closer and slowly started to sway with her in an intimate slow dance, noses
touching – Anders mirrored it in reality, a little unsure in his steps compared to the image of
Justice.

The only reason the spirit knew what this was, and that it was romantic, was because the memories
of the warden he’d possessed before Anders had held such memories together with his wife.
Kristoff had often been the romantic knight in shining armour to his wife, and Justice had
incorporated this, apparently.

Slowly, a smile spread over Marian’s lips. She laughed a little at the absurdity of slow-dancing in a
living room, wearing her pyjamas and with her unwashed, messy hair. And perhaps she laughed a
little at Anders’ two left feet too. Before soon, though, the laughter turned from awkward to
genuine joy as Anders calmed down a little and joined in fully, spinning her around here and there,
letting her do the same to him…

It ended in Marian slowly embracing Anders, the two still swaying to unheard music as she rested
her chin on his shoulder. Her smile faded slightly, but she felt much better than she had.

She wasn’t alone. Her family might be gone, but she still had Anders. And Justice. Her new
family.

With Anders holding her close, nose nuzzling against her hair, Marian felt at peace. She looked
over at the mirror and saw Justice gently holding Marian too, and she felt even more at peace.

She felt better.

 Dragon Age: Cullen / f!Inquisitor - 'Nurse You Back to Health'
Chapter Summary

The Inquisitor is not one to rest or take breaks, too caught up in work and helping
people to think about herself. So when all of that finally catches up with her and she
collapses, Cullen is there to pick her back up again and nurse her back to health.

Chapter Notes

This was kinda cute (not to toot my own horn or anything)… and considering I am
struggling so incredibly much writing for Cullen still, I am kinda proud over the fact it
turned out even remotely cute D:

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Cullen was the first to notice she looked tired. And when he said she looked tired, he didn’t mean
tired in the sense of a bad night’s sleep but rather a week’s worth of not sleeping.

She was stressed, worried, and clearly exhausted from everything she had on her plate. She was
doing her best to try and get to rifts in time, help out as many people as possible on the way, travel
to far away places to gain aid for the Inquisition or help those in need… All of that, and more, was
what she was doing out of the sheer feeling of guilt. The rifts were not her fault…

But she didn’t see it that way. As the only one with the tools to close them, she felt it was her fault
when any of them remained open for longer than they should.

He didn’t dare comment on it though. Although they had been in a relationship for a while now,
and although his heart hurt with worry for her, he didn’t see how him butting into her choices and
life was any of his concern.

So he remained quiet.

Until one night when his silence caused her pain.

He had gone to say goodbye to her, knowing she was travelling the following day to once more
close some rifts. He found her in her room, not packing to get ready for her travels nor resting up,
but writing reports. He blinked in surprise, aware that it was late at night already, and she would
have no time to pack in the morning.

“Inquisitor?”

“Hm…” she said, distracted.

Unsure of whether he should butt in at all, Cullen awkwardly cleared his throat. “I… Do you need
some help packing?”
“Hm?” She looked up at him, dark circles under her eyes and eyes slightly hazy from… just pure
exhaustion. “Don’t worry, I still have some hours until dawn.”

“I-“ Cullen stared in shock as she simply went back to writing her report. “Inquisitor, you’re
travelling tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

He stepped closer. “You need to rest.”

“I will. Later. I need to finish these reports before I leave, and then I have to pack, clean my
armour-“

“Clean your armour?” Cullen huffed. “That does not have to be your job. You are the Inquisition’s
leader. Let others help you.”

“I’m fine.”

Knowing it was futile to argue with her when she held that determined expression on her face,
Cullen scoffed but remained quiet. He stood watching her with a look in his eyes that clearly
screamed he was not amused, and it seemed to make the Inquisitor mellow down slightly. She
offered him a grateful look and stood up, walking across toward him with the intent to soothe him
with a hug –

But halfway to him, she paled, stumbled and collapsed. Cullen had only had a few seconds to react,
but luckily his past as a warrior had honed his reflexes enough that he’d caught her in time to leave
her unscathed.

Not that she was unscathed. “Inquisitor?!” He held her in his arms, sitting on the floor with her
until she grew conscious again. Soothingly, he stroked her cheek. Foolishly, he hadn’t called for a
healer yet.

“Sorry…”

He blinked in surprise at her apology. “What for?”

“… this.” She tried to sit up and move away from him, ease his burden – as she no doubt thought of
herself in that moment – but Cullen held onto her tightly, not allowing such movements or
thoughts.

“Do not apologize for that.” He offered her a gentle smile. “But do apologize for not taking
breaks,” he scolded with a loving tone. “You are doing far too much for everyone, but you forget
yourself.”

Slowly, he lifted her up. She clearly felt awful, as she was not protesting against his doting ways.
Normally, she would have put up more of a fight.

Moving her over to the bed, he placed her under the covers despite her still being fully dressed, and
sat down beside her, hand going back to her cheek lovingly. “I believe as your commander, I do
have some authority to keep you in Skyhold should you be under the weather.”

“Oh?” she asked quietly, eyes tiredly watching him with an amused twinkle in her eyes. “I do
believe you’ve just made that up.”

He nodded his head. “What shall we call this rule?”

She watched him with curious eyes for a bit before his intention was understood, and a little
chuckle left her. “I can’t skip tomorrow.”

“You cannot go either.”

Of course the Inquisitor was fully aware of this. That did not mean she felt any better about it,
though, and she slowly sighed in guilt, defeat dawning in her eyes. “Very well…”

“So,” Cullen said victoriously, “what ancient law shall we invent?”

A little smile appeared on the Inquisitor’s lips. “The ancient law of a doting commander.”

Cullen chuckled.

“I want you to tell Leliana and Josephine that here in my room. I want to see their faces.”

Anything to make her smile whilst she was poorly. “Deal.” His compliance and clear intent to keep
his word made her smile again. It warmed his heart every time he was the cause of her smile. Now,
when she felt so bad, it was even better. “Now rest.”

“Will you stay? Until I fall asleep? It makes me feel…” She frowned. “It makes me feel a little
more at ease knowing you are not mad at me for… resting.”

Cullen mirrored her frown. This was definitely something the Inquisitor needed to work on. She
could not work herself to death. Without her, there could be no Inquisition. Without her… he was
lost.

And so he nodded, also silently promising himself and her to stay by her side and help her find a
better work-balance.

“I’ll stay. I’ll do whatever you need of me to get better.”

 Dragon Age: Alistair / f!Warden - 'Nurse You Back to Health'
Chapter Summary

When the warden gets sick, Alistair wishes he could fight it off like any other blighted
creature that dared harm her… but he can’t. He can only wait…

Chapter Notes

A little cute ‘Alistair-is-a-puppy-who-curls-up-to-his-best-friend-when-sad’ fic XD

Hope you enjoy!!

Tomorrow we’re starting week 3 of this challenge. It’s going to be a little different
than other weeks so stay tuned! :3

The Warden got sick only once during their travels before the Archdemon was slain. Her
endurance was quite astonishing to the entire group, as Alistair often found himself with a runny
nose and a slight fever here and there – braving the weather would do that to one after all.

It seemed her endurance only meant she could fight off minor colds, though. Anything worse…?
Well… Anything worse seemed to floor her. The only time she got sick, she was out cold for days.

With a fever so high, Wynne was actually worried her magic might not be helping and that she was
only prolonging the inevitable.

Alistair wouldn’t listen to that. He couldn’t dare believe that.

So, he stayed close, keeping a watchful eye on her until she woke up.

Because she would.

As a trained templar turned warden, he knew how to keep watch, and so he would do that. This
watch, however, was not the same as others. He was not on the look-out for enemies. He was on
the look-out for signs her health was getting even worse. Wynne had given him strict orders that if
anything seemed off, he would call upon her immediately, even if Wynne was asleep. It felt off
keeping watch in such a different way. He kept his armour on and his sword nearby despite it not
being that type of watch, and he watched her soft features, paler than usual, sleep through the
illness.

That was his life for three long days and nights. And he didn’t complain even once. The others
would pass by and check in on them, but it was mainly Alistair who stayed nearby.

That was his duty as her closest friend and… more.

When those three days had passed and she didn’t seem to be getting any better, Alistair shifted over
to her, heart full of worry, and dared to reach out to her forehead. Even through his gloved fingers
he could feel the heat of the fever eating away at her, and he frowned.
“Come back to me.” The whisper that left his lips was anguished. “I can’t do this alone… and I
can’t lose you.” Brushing stray strands of hair away from her face, he tilted his head and watched
her beauty for a bit.

She truly was a rare flower amidst a war of taint and betrayal. He couldn’t let these bad times take
her away… he had lost so much already… it wouldn’t surprise him if life kept on taking from
him…

No. He had to keep up hope. It had only been three days. Surely…

He gripped his sword tighter, hating how this was nothing he could fight off for her, hating how he
couldn’t protect her. Angrily he stabbed the ground beneath him, letting go of the sword to let it
stand on its own.

He turned away from it. It was a useless tool against this disease… and momentarily his anger was
turned toward the object.

Then the fire of his anger died to embers and he realized he wasn’t angry at all, least of all angry at
the sword… He was just… scared.

Carefully, he leaned down to press his lips against her forehead, closing his eyes.

It wasn’t enough to bring comfort to his heart that she was still there, and so he sighed and placed
his forehead against hers, the tip of his nose touching hers.

She didn’t stir.

Not at first.

It wasn’t until Alistair let out another sigh and decided he needed some sleep, curling up beside her
and resting his head on her stomach, that she shifted slightly. He missed it as he closed his eyes to
rest, letting out a huff of a breath and snuggled closer to her.

Only when shaky fingers suddenly touched his hair did he bolt upright again and stare at her in
shock. Her weak eyes watched him – her weak open eyes.

“Oh Maker…” he breathed. “You’re awake!” He grabbed her face happily and laughed, tears
filling his eyes out of pure relief.

She clearly looked confused at that, and Alistair went into hyper-mode. She needed to regain her
strength. She needed to keep fighting this illness.

Forgetting all that he had promised Wynne, he scrambled around the tent and found what he was
searching for. His food rations. Taking out a block of cheese, he offered it, whole, to her.

She blinked in confusion.

“Uh…” He realized this might be weird, and put it aside. “Sorry, I – you’re – You haven’t been
awake for a while – I was – so worried – but Wynne promised – you’re better now right!?”

Despite how awful she probably felt, she had the common sense to not reply to his rambling
buffoonery and instead reach out and place a calming hand on his arm, reminding him to chill and
take a deep breath.

He did so too. His shoulders sagged and he bowed his head. “I was so worried…”
“I’m here.” She smiled weakly, voice quiet but not inaudible. “Can I have some water?”

Nodding his head, he scrambled to find his water pouch and quickly helped her take a swig, lifting
her head ever so slightly.

“Why are you dressed for battle?” she asked as he eased her head back down onto the pillow. “Is
something wrong?”

He glanced down at himself. “Oh I… I was… keeping watch. Over you. I figured…” He frowned.
“I wished I could fight it off for you.”

Her brows rose in surprise, then a little smile spread over her lips. It was the kind, non-
judgemental, smile that he had missed oh so much.

“You seem to have succeeded,” she said with a light chuckle.

He smiled.
 Star Trek Enterprise: Trip / Malcolm - 'Protocol'
Chapter Summary

After a slip up, Trip finds himself more in trouble than when he usually does
something to anger Malcolm. Luckily, not even an argument can separate these two.

Chapter Notes

After a slip up, Trip finds himself more in trouble than when he usually does
something to anger Malcolm. Luckily, not even an argument can separate these two.
Note: This was HEAVILY inspired by the Star Trek Enterprise novel called What
Price Honor? – the fourth in the series and… what an odd name but okay XD It’s from
Malcolm’s POV and explores his character in terms of loss, romance and interactions
with the crew. Super good, actually. Read it all in one day!

Anyway, this oneshot (which turned pretty long oopsie) is the first of week 3! For this
week, I’m doing an approach following ‘Defining Word for Their Relationship’, using
words given to us for inspiration for the challenge…. Well… of course this day was
not a word from said list XD but the others are!

Ahem… today’s prompt is ‘protocol’. I’ll let you read to find out why ; )

Malcolm had been avoiding him. Usually when they had a fight, it was Trip’s fault, and usually it
would only be a couple of days before Malcolm cooled off enough for them to talk things through.
So at first, Trip had not been worried. There was enough trust and reassurance in their relationship
for Trip to believe everything would sort itself out.

But then Malcolm didn’t cool off. Clearly, what Trip had done had struck deep… and Trip wasn’t
too surprised in all honesty. He knew Malcolm well enough that he should have realized
immediately. Now, with not having spoken for a few days, approaching Malcolm to talk would
only be even more awkward... and Trip was stalling, as much as that went against his own morals
of just facing things head on.

Unfortunately, the Xindi war required all senior personnel to have extra battle training. Whilst Trip
was not entirely bad with a phaser rifle, he had to admit that when he got the notification that he
was assigned extra training on the side, he wasn’t surprised.

But he was very uncomfortable upon realizing that the extra training assigned to him was… a one-
on-one session with Malcolm.

“I’ll be damned.” Commander Tucker stepped away from the interface in pure astonishment,
earning the attention from Captain Archer, lieutenant Travis and Reed. “If I reroute the power to
move directly past these conduits here, and here,” Trip was quick to point out what he meant on
the interface, his fellow co-workers watching curiously, “I think I can get her working. It’ll take
me a day or two.”

“Are you one hundred percent sure? Last time we tried it,” Malcolm said, stepping up with his
arms crossed to stand next to Trip, “the vessel broke down halfway to our destination. That will for
sure alert the Xindi that we’re not allies.”

Trip scoffed. “Have you no faith in me?”

“Not really, no,” sassed Malcolm, a little smirk on his lips telling Trip he meant little by it. The
banter was the closest either of them ever got to flirting in front of other co-workers.

Malcolm wanted things to be strictly professional around others. He wanted to follow protocol. He
didn’t want Archer to know the two had a relationship.

“Well, just in case,” Travis added with a gentle, careful tone to his voice, “maybe we can add an
additional power source?”

“What would that accomplish?” asked Archer, standing to the side to watch some of his best
crewmen figure this problem out. He was smiling slightly, aware that, if anyone, these people
could handle this. And he adored watching his crew impress him time and time again.

“It would work as a back-up that immediately activates upon thruster failure,” Trip realized,
glancing back at Travis with an impressed nod of his head. “Good job, kid.”

“Alright. You two work on that and I’ll gather a team that will come with me, if that is alright,
captain?” Malcolm asked.

“Hold on.” Before Archer could answer Malcolm, Trip had interjected. “You’re not going, are
you?”

Malcolm glanced back at the engineer, a little furrow in his brow showing he was confused. “With
all due respect, commander, I do not want any of my men to go into enemy territory without me.”

Archer smiled proudly at that, agreeing wholeheartedly himself. If he could, he would come with
Malcolm too, for the sake of being there and supporting his crew. But he would be in the way. This
was a mission meant requiring stealth… and a slight of hand to steal that one artifact... Archer
wasn’t the best at either.

“Yeah, but it’ll be dangerous.”

Malcolm cleared his throat, glancing awkwardly at Archer and Travis. “Nothing I can’t handle,
sir .” He put great emphasis on the word, attempting to make Trip realize he was stepping over a
boundary Malcolm wasn’t okay with.

But Trip hadn’t realized, too caught up with his feelings which always was his biggest weakness.
He stepped forwards, grabbed Malcolm’s hand and vigorously shook his head. “Please
reconsider. For me.”

Archer and Travis could only stare in surprise. And then in mutual sympathy as Malcolm all but
ripped his hand away from Trip’s grasp, glared and left the room without another word.
…

That had been the last time Trip had spoken to Malcolm. It was safe to say that Trip felt conflicted
about the one-on-one training… and unsure. But when the doors swished open early one morning
to reveal Malcolm already waiting for their session, Trip’s conflicted feelings turned to annoyance.

What had been so wrong with what he had said anyway? They had been in a relationship for God
knows how long now (well… his calendar knew. He was not one to forget an anniversary!) and he
still couldn’t show his feelings around other people?

With a scoff, Trip entered and was prepared to fully commit to what Malcolm wished: keep it
strictly professional. If Malcolm was so butthurt about Trip showing affection, then he would get a
taste of what he was asking of Trip.

Was it rude of Trip to give Malcolm such an ultimatum? Perhaps… But he was done. And also a
highly emotional man… This was perhaps a rather mild reaction from Trip all in all.

Entering, Trip walked over to his fellow senior officer with a serious expression on his face. “Good
morning, lieutenant,” he said with a nod, anger replacing the longing to reach out and touch
Malcolm. “Hopefully this don’t take too long. I got plenty of duties in engineering.”

There was a pause. Trip avoided looking at Malcolm as the silence almost infuriated him. Why
was Malcolm not replying? Was this not what he wanted? Purely following protocol and having no
emotional attachments to each other?

Yet, despite Trip’s rather malicious intentions, he couldn’t hide the hurt washing over his face
when his beloved nodded curtly and grabbed a phase rifle. “Your efforts were poor at our session
last week. I expect Commanders of Starfleet to handle rifles a little better.” Malcolm paid Trip no
attention, being as curt and serious as he would to anyone else – as if they had no relationship… as
if Malcolm was just following protocol…

Was this it, then? Was it over?

Suddenly, Trip’s malicious plan was washed down the drain… suddenly, Trip wasn’t quite in the
mood to feel anything at all. He wished he was Vulcan and capable of suppressing the hurt and
heartbreak he was feeling in that very moment…

“Let me demonstrate first.” Malcolm spared Trip just the one glance, but it was unclear whether
the Chief of Security had noticed Trip’s heartbreak or not. He was sure it was showing all over his
face.

Not replying, Trip just stood there, dumbfoundedly, as Malcolm did as he promised. A target
appeared, flying around the room. Malcolm shot at it, managing to hit it each and every time. At
first, Trip had only been staring at Malcolm, distracted by his feelings to take in anything else…

But then the demonstration went on a little too long, and Trip glanced at Malcolm’s good work.
Slowly, Trip started to feel a little impressed. It was not until Trip showed it in his eyes that
Malcolm stopped, though. He turned and stared Trip down.

Huh?

Trip frowned.

“I don’t expect you to beat my score. No one has apart from Mayor Hayes. You see…” He looked
away from Trip awkwardly, shifting on his feet as he tried to find the right words. “I’m… I’m quite
efficient with a weapon. Any weapon.” His eyes glanced back to Trip. “I can handle myself.”

Oh.

Trip glanced over at the target resting in the air. He’d counted at least 20 consecutive hits, and
Malcolm’s movements showcased a skill and familiarity with battle that Trip knew he himself
would never have. Perhaps he had been projecting his own incapability onto Malcolm, letting it
mix in with his worries for the man who meant so much to him…

“Right…” Trip said quietly, heartbreak slowly fading into a faint ache. So it wasn’t… over? Was
this a silent apology?

Trip wasn’t sure, but he was sure of one thing: he didn’t need to worry about Malcolm going on
this mission. Malcolm could handle himself.

Malcolm stepped over to Trip, eyes avoiding the man as he handed the rifle over. “You try now.”

Slowly, Trip took the rifle, avoiding brushing his fingers against Malcolm’s. “I dunno if I can get a
good score.” The first attempt was a disaster, as Trip had suspected. With a sigh, he shrugged and
glanced to Malcolm, meeting his gaze when he found the man already staring at him. “Told ya.”

“You just need some practice. Here, let me show you.” Trip’s eyes widened in surprise as Malcolm
stepped over, put an arm around his waist to steady Trip, shifted his feet to part Trip’s into a proper
stance, and then continued to gently splay his fingers over Trip’s gripping the rifle. The palm of his
hand rested on the back of Trip’s, and a warmth spread from their hands touching all the way up
Trip’s arm until it fully dulled Trip’s heartbreak. “Now, when you aim-“

But Malcolm was cut off by the doors opening. An ensign walked inside, pausing in the doorway
upon seeing the two. Trip had tensed his body to shift away from Malcolm, as Malcolm would
have liked – but he found that he couldn’t move. Malcolm’s arm around him stopped him. With
wide, shocked eyes, Trip listened as Malcolm only turned his head and told the ensign the duties
for his shift were on a pad in the corner.

Then, Malcolm continued to show Trip how to aim the rifle properly. Acutely aware of the ensign
walking past them, clearly seeing Malcolm’s unnecessary touches and obviously putting one and
one together, Trip was a little distracted from what Malcolm was saying. This was… very unlike
Malcolm.

But Trip got the message. He could handle himself and… he was apologizing and compromising
with Trip. He had a feeling Malcolm might still struggle around the other senior officers, but that
was alright.

This?

This was more than enough for Trip. They didn’t need to hide anymore. Malcolm was giving
protocol the finger.

And Trip loved it.

He loved him.

“Do you understand?”

Trip smirked. Smoothly, Trip turned his head to the side, slightly too close to Malcolm’s face and
finding, to his delight, that Malcolm didn’t shift away. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to repeat that a
little slower. I got… distracted.”

“I have a feeling I should not ask by what,” Malcolm flirted back.

“It might be a little scandalous,” Trip replied. “But I think you of all people can handle it.”

“Indeed?” chuckled Malcolm.

“Oh yes,” smirked Trip. The two shared a glance, smiled and nodded their heads at the silent
understanding that passed over them before they attempted to get Trip used to the idea of shooting
a phaser rifle...
 Supernatural: Dean / Castiel - 'Music'
Chapter Summary

It was a gift… keep it.

Deans Top 13 Zepp Traxx and Castiel’s realization of its meaning…

Chapter Notes

:3 This scene guys… This scene is just aksjhdjeha… The subtext… the hints… the
pining… the gentleness… the fecking xx …

Anyway… This fic is the ‘Defining Word for Their Relationship’ in terms of Destiel! I
chose ‘music’ from the prompt list, knowing exactly what I wanted to explore…

This scene is from season 12 episode 19 – so SPOILERS are ahead. Basically, I

emphasized the gay, and then added a little realization of Castiel’s ;)

Hope you enjoy!!

Three knocks. Dean doesn’t reply.

Castiel sits in the bunker, lights dimmed as he waits out the night. He does not require sleep and so
each night, he waits for the Winchesters to wake up. Watching over humans was never anything
boring. A few hours for him was nothing in comparison to his long life, and immortality.

Lately, the idea of watching over them in solitude, sitting in the dark waiting… was becoming
difficult.

Castiel opens the door anyway, stopping in the doorway… hesitating at the feel of Dean’s emotions
darkening the entire room. If there was anything he could say to make Dean feel better, he would.

If he could reach out and hug, and help, he would…

“Um…” Instead he stutters. “Sorry Dean. Um…” Shifting closer to where the hunter was sat at
his desk, staring at the laptop screen, he placed a little home-made mix tape on the surface next to
Dean. “I just wanted to um… return this.”

Silence…
Silence. Castiel was staring down at the tape in his hands, mulling over it, twisting it around in his
fingers. The scribbles of Dean’s handwriting showed possession over the object: “Dean’s Top 13
Zepp Traxx”. Yet…

“It’s a gift.” Castiel stopped in the doorway. He had been on his way out again. Now, he turned
back to the hunter, glancing at the tape Dean was handing back. He was still not looking at
Castiel, though, eyes glued to the screen. “You keep those.”

Castiel had known gifts were to be kept. He had just assumed this was something to get Castiel
accustomed to Dean’s music taste. It had been the words on the tape confusing Castiel. That and…
well… Dean was not a very articulate man. He had just shoved it into Castiel’s hands one day and
said: “For the road.”

That was it.

“Oh…” Castiel had wanted to say so much more but could not find the words. Instead, he turned
again to leave.

“Cas…” But was stopped once more.

Dean didn’t want him to go, it seemed.

Dean never wanted Castiel to go. No matter what fights they got into, no matter what Dean’s harsh
words might imply, he never wanted Castiel to go. There would come a day when Castiel no longer
could watch over the Winchesters as they slept… and the longer Castiel spent with Dean, the more
he started to fear those times… especially if he himself was not dead.

But he would have the tape. He would always have the tape.

“You can’t… With everything that’s going on, you can’t just go dark like that. We didn’t know what
happened to you.” Castiel heard the emotions. He heard the hurt. He heard the implied words…
“We were worried – that’s not okay.”

We… I…

But how selfish of these humans to think it was always just about their emotions… “Well, I didn’t
mean to add to your distress.” What if Castiel had died? Would they truly just sit there and curse
him for disappearing on them? Not… mourn… He huffed at Dean’s lack of a reply, not even getting
a glance from the hunter.

But then he realized… that this was Dean. The tape he was holding in his hands had been a gift
because Dean didn’t know how to use his words.

He never knew how to use his words.

We…or I…
That’s not okay… or I was scared…

“Dean, I just keep failing. Again and again and again. When you were taken, I searched for
months and I couldn’t find you and then Kelly escaped on my watch and I couldn’t find her and I
just wanted to – I need to come back here with a win for you.” He sighed. “And for myself,” he
quickly added.

Dean shifted in his chair.

What had Castiel once heard Dean say…? Led Zeppelin was romantic? The go to for first dates?

And had it not been…

“Could either of you kill an innocent?” The argument quieted down. Castiel’s fingers on the tape
were still soft… caring… his eyes were still soft… caring…

Dean had finally turned to him.

“We will find another way.”

“We?” asked Castiel.

“Yes, dumbass. We.”

The two shared a long look. Dean stood up slowly and walked over. Castiel stood his ground, eyes
locked, feet touching his at the proximity... “You… me…” Dean purred. “We’re… just better
together.” Dean lowered his gaze, as if he had just said too much, and took a step back. “The
three of us, that is.”

Castiel remained quiet.

What was it… His mother…?

“So now that you’re… back… let’s go Team Free Will.”

Castiel smiled.

Hadn’t Dean’s mother and father connected over Led Zeppelin lyrics? Wasn’t that how the two
people Dean revered the most had gotten together? The most romantic thing Dean could think of?

The angel stood up, staring down at the tape in his hands. If Castiel wanted to be close to Dean
during the nights of waiting, if Castiel wanted to be with Dean in general, he would have to endure
Dean’s little test now… He could do that. He had a memory unlike anyone else – well, he was an
angel after all – if he needed to be able to recite these lyrics?

Then he would.
With a tiny smile, Castiel hurried over to a nearby stereo and inserted the mixtape. Before pushing
the tape fully inside, he let his fingers trail over the ‘xx’… a little kiss…

Castiel’s tiny smile turned into a full one.

 The Hobbit: Fíli / Kalâtha (OC) - 'Irreplaceable'
Chapter Summary

Neither could live without the other, and neither knew how they ever had been able to
before their marriage. They had no intentions to let go of each other if they weren’t
forced to by duties…

Irreplaceable.

Chapter Notes

The defining word (aka the prompt) for this couple is 'irreplaceable' (THE AMOUNT
OF TIMES I MISSPELLED THIS WORD PLEASE why is English so difficult
sometimes!) - ahem, it's Fíli and an OC of mine. She's made two previous appearances
and for this particular fic you don't need to know too much of her :3 just that Fíli is
king of Erebor hehe

it's mainly just a quick little exploration of their relationship! hope you enjoyy! :3

Dwarves had no issue being in many romantic relationships. But there was something specifically
special about love. One could be in a relationship for the sake of seeing if this was love, or for the
sake of simply finding someone attractive – but if it wasn’t love, dwarves didn’t stay together for
long.

And if it was love?

Then there would never be another relationship. It could end tragically. If one dwarf fell in love but
it was not mutual, that dwarf would still never fall for another. If one dwarf fell in love with
someone who then passed away, that dwarf would still never move on, and often even die from
grief.

The bonds they shared were so strong and powerful that it was no surprise the King of Erebor was
always a little lost and unfocused when his queen was away on a diplomatic mission. They had
soon made a deal to let Kalâtha go on said missions, for the sake of being half-human (which
meant humans listened better to her than Fíli) and having just a tad more patience than dear Fíli
(which they’d learned through trial and error).

It meant Fíli stayed behind to care for the kingdom on his own, of course with the support of his
family and friends…

But still he struggled. He’d be anxious most of the time, tapping his finger impatiently throughout
important meetings, sitting hunched in his throne, completely unresponsive until the meetings
ended. At those points, he’d storm out and go straight to his chambers, not leaving unless there
were other meetings to attend (for he would never forsake his duties as king in terms of at least
attending meetings).
Later in his life he would storm straight to their children, just to get a glimpse of his beloved in
their eyes, their words and their ways of tormenting him – lovingly, of course.

But before that, he would just be in their chamber, sit on the chair where she usually sat reading
books, or sitting at her desk to do his paperwork… Anything to try and be close to her whilst she
was away. He’d sleep hugging her pillow, not allowing the servants to change their sheets until she
returned, wanting to keep her scent close by in any way possible.

It wasn’t an obsession, although to those who didn’t understand the deep emotional connection the
two had, it might look like it. He was completely okay when she was just within the borders of the
mountain. He just…

She was irreplaceable as his comfort, protection and company. With her not around, he felt at loss.

So whenever she did return back to the mountain, any and all meetings with the king and queen of
Erebor were cancelled for one day, just so the two could reconnect emotionally and physically…
neither leaving their chambers save to eat.

She wasn’t only irreplaceable to Fíli, Fíli was also irreplaceable to Kalâtha, and she would need a
day to recuperate being away from him too. A day of talking, a day of kissing, a day of holding
each other… hands roaming over bodies, touching skin which they had only been able to imagine
during their separation… naked bodies lying on the fur carpet in front of the fire… smiles
constantly present… breaths intertwining… chests touching… legs entangled…

Neither could live without the other, and neither knew how they ever had been able to before their
marriage. They had no intentions to let go of each other if they weren’t forced to by duties…

Irreplaceable.
 The Hobbit: Thorin / Bilbo - 'Adventure'
Chapter Summary

Thorin and Bilbo’s life is like a new adventure every day. This particular day turned…
a little more adventurous than others though when they spot something that’s not
supposed to be in their kitchen.

Chapter Notes

I had too much fun with this… way too much fun… and so I really hope you guys like
it too XD
Today’s prompt for ‘defining word for their relationship’ is in terms of Bagginshield –
‘adventure’. I thought it was fitting considering how they met to begin with (“I’m
going on an adventure!”) and… well… I’m not quite sure how this happened XD but I
added a ‘little’ something extra to spice up their daily adventures of domestic life.

This is set after the movies, with everyone alive because uh that’s what Tolkien wrote
idk what you’re talking about…

Thorin Oakenshield had faced Azog the Defiler multiple times. He had survived a dragon’s attack.
He had led armies to win back Moria, he had led his people to the Blue Mountains to settle down,
he had led the company to Erebor, defeated a dragon (kind of), survived the Battle of Five Armies
(kind of), rebuilt Erebor for his nephew to take over…

Thorin Oakenshield was a king, a warrior, a hero.

Bilbo Baggins was a hero himself. He had faced things no hobbit could even dream about, seen
things of the world no hobbit knew existed, and had been chosen by a dwarf king to be his One.

Both knew how to handle a sword, one better than the other…

And yet, married life was the biggest adventure both had endured. Each day brought something
new. A new routine. A new argument. A new trait to love. A new secret. A new night of passion.
It was an adventure one couldn’t get bored of. Ever.

But it also brought its perils.

Although, Thorin would never utter the word ‘peril’ in relation to this incident in front of his
fellow kin… They would certainly laugh at him.

That particular day, their adventure started early in the morning.

And lasted well into the afternoon, as embarrassing as it was…

Thorin had entered the kitchen to the sweet smell of tea brewing on the hearth. Bilbo was already
awake, wearing his morning robe and offering Thorin a smile. They reached out to each other to
hug, as they did each morning –

Only to be interrupted by a mouse.

It ran across the floor, past both of their feet, and scurried into a cupboard, squeezing itself in
without an issue.

“Get it! That’s where the cookies are!”

Cookies were very important to hobbits. All food was, actually, and if there was one thing that
Thorin had assimilated from his time in Hobbiton, it was the passionate desire to protect their food
storage.

So of course, both had dashed across the kitchen toward the cupboard, opening it in time to see the
mouse scurry up and into a little hole, out of view.

“Blast it!” exclaimed Bilbo, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I will not let mice live in my home.
No thank you! Before you know it there’s holes in your cheese you didn’t remember were there,
and suddenly the cookies you wanted to give your neighbour are gone. This is not proper of a
smial! And certainly not of this hobbit’s smial.”

Thorin agreed with a hum, narrowing his eye at the hole. “They’re behind the cupboards.”

“What do you mean they!?”

Thorin offered an apologetic look to the hobbit. “I highly doubt there is just the one mouse.
They… fornicate quickly.”

Bilbo’s nostrils flared. “They’ve been fornicating in my house!?”

Despite the extremely annoyed look in the hobbit’s face, Thorin had to let out a chuckle at this. But
he was quick to raise an apologetic hand when Bilbo’s angry look turned to him.

“Let’s set out a trap.”

As pathetic as it sounded… the former king of Erebor and Bilbo Baggins of Bag-end sat perched
on a table, staring at the trap they’d made of cheese, crackers, and bread. Thorin held a little string
in his hand, which was attached to the ceiling, twirled around a hook meant for a lamp. From there
it led down to a little, tiny makeshift cage, dangling over the food. If the mouse came out to get the
food, Thorin would let go of the trap and catch the creature.

Hopefully.

It was a bad idea.

But what else could they do?

Live with the mouse (or mice)? Absolutely not. That went against everything Bilbo believed in.

So, for hours, the two sat on that table, staring at the food in wait for their prey. It was a tense job.
Bilbo snuck away only once to get them some snacks, making sure he was as light on his feet as a
hobbit could be.

Sometime in the afternoon, something moved in their peripheral view. Both watched in anticipation
as the mouse appeared, sniffing the air to check if it was safe.
It wasn’t dumb. It noticed Thorin and Bilbo on the table. And for a while, the three had a stare-off.
The mouse didn’t move a single muscle, trying to ascertain whether this was dangerous or not.

But the food was right there…

And it looked delicious.

Bilbo and Thorin held their breaths as the mouse started moving closer to the food, first hesitantly,
watching to see whether the two large creatures would do something threatening… but when they
only sat still, the mouse kept moving. And moving. And moving.

Until it finally reached the food, beginning to sniff the cheese, nibbling slightly on it.

Bilbo waited just a few seconds, to make sure the mouse was distracted by the food, before he
shouted out for Thorin to let go. The dwarf, shocked by Bilbo’s demanding enthusiasm more than
listening to the command, let go of the string.

The trap dropped, both watching with wide, hopeful eyes, as it fell down… and trapped the mouse.

The creature squeaked in fear, trying to climb out, push out – anything. But it was trapped.

“Ha!” exclaimed Bilbo in victory, jumping down from the table. “No mouse gets to live in my
hobbit hole without consequence.”

“Our hobbit hole.” Thorin shook his head in amusement as he stepped down from the table.

“Yes yes, our hobbit hole, of course.” That hadn’t sounded very convincing, and Thorin only rolled
his eyes, not taking it personally.

“Now…” Bilbo crouched down to look at the mouse through the cage. The creature sat curled up
in fear in a corner, breathing so heavily and heart pounding so hard that its entire body was shaking
along with each heartbeat. Bilbo’s demeanour softened. “You know… We could let you roam
freely in the Sackville-Baggins’ home-“

“Bilbo,” warned Thorin, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Alright then…” Bilbo sighed, genuinely a little upset he couldn’t go through with his evil plan.
“Let’s find you a nice corn field.”

Every day brought them a new adventure as a married couple. Luckily, they handled other
adventures a little better than this mouse.
 Dragon Age: Anders / f!Hawke / Justice - 'Mirror'
Chapter Summary

In a relationship of three, where the third participant cannot be there at the same time
as the other two, how do Anders and Marian make things work? Well… through
mirrors and magic.

Chapter Notes

Ayeee we’re back at the last 3 days of a week, which means Dragon Age! The
‘defining word for their relationship’ today is for Hawke / Anders / Justice, using the
prompt ‘mirror’. It’s set after the events in Kirkwall, in a happy ever after headcanon
because goddamn it Bioware you better let my meow meow Anders have a nice life
for once D:

Also, sorry if there are some messy bits in the writing here and there – I wrote this
whilst really hungry and I get a little delusional then – I might edit again at a later
point XD but I wanna eat now so… sorry!

Their relationship was different from the norm. Not just because they had a third participant. Not
just because said third participant was a spirit. But because the third participant could only
physically touch Marian if Justice was in control. He could not touch Anders at all save for pretend
ghostly touches should the need arise.

So they came up with a new way to be together all three of them. Late at nights, when the fire
burned bright in their small living room, Marian and Anders would sit down in front of the
fireplace on a warm rug, arms around each other. They would, however, not be turned toward the
fire. They would be turned to the side, where, in the corner of the room, a mirror stood.

And they’d smile at their reflections.

Although, they didn’t smile at their reflections per se. They smiled at the image projected there of
Justice in the form he would take in the Fade, resting with his arms around both of them. They
wouldn’t feel his touch, they could only see and imagine… magic flowed through the room from
the spirit’s presence in Anders…

Through mirrors, they could be together all three of them. Despite it being nothing more but a
simple illusion spell cast by Justice, it worked to give them a sense of kinship.

Later, they would invest in many more mirrors. They’d be placed all over the little cabin, in the
kitchen so they could watch Justice join in with cooking, or sit with them as they ate. In the study
so he could be present when they did research. In the bedroom so he could – well… that was a
whole other subject… a very naughty one…

Those mirrors around the house grew specifically important, though, once new members joined
their family; members who also wanted to see their other papa as much as possible…

The third person in their relationship might not be able to be there physically at the same time, but
that didn’t mean they didn’t find ways to make it work. And oh did it work beautifully.
 Dragon Age: Cullen / f!Inquisitor - 'Trust'
Chapter Summary

Both trust each other enough to know their relationship would never turn sour... no
matter how much they relied on each other...

Chapter Notes

Again, I do struggle writing for Cullen still a little bit, but I hope you can start to tell it
less and less as I get back into the groove of things o.o I hope… anyway, here’s
another little drabble-ish oneshot thingy for the ‘defining word for their relationship’ –
in this case, the prompt used is 'trust'! :3 if there’s one thing this couple has, it’s trust.
Hopefully I managed to get it to come through in my writing! o.o

WARNING: If you have not finished the Trespasser DLC, there are some spoilers
here. Be careful.

“Let me.” A sigh escapes her lips at his words, a frown evident on her brow, crinkling the skin
between auburn eyebrows. His arm slips around her waist in a reassuring little squeeze.

He doesn’t mind.

He never complains.

If anything, he thrives doing 90% of the work.

But that doesn’t mean she feels any better about it.

Rolling her shoulder uncomfortably, she turns to step aside, allowing Cullen full access to their
infant, quickly changing the nappy and putting his son in new, fresh clothes. His golden eyes
glimpse her way every few seconds, analysing and planning just like the good husband, and great
commander, that he is.

The second he’s finished, he sweeps the baby up into his arms and immediately brings him back
over to her, aware she needs some comfort and reassurance that she is still equally as important and
needed despite the loss of her arm.

Maybe sometimes she struggled, but Cullen was there every step of the way. He’d vowed not to
leave her side since the Inquisition’s end, and he hadn’t broken it since. If they needed to travel
somewhere, they went together. If Cullen had personal business, she went with him. If she had
personal business, he went with her.

It was not because she couldn’t handle herself out there. If anything, she’d fought off bandits more
times than he had ever since the birth of their son. If anything, she was their protector, shouldering
through the difficulties that faced them head on. Cullen knew, though, that her not being able to
shoulder all responsibilities like she probably would have had Solas not done what he had (though
of course… she would be dead then), was hurting her. So Cullen made sure to stay with her so she
didn’t push herself, and so that he could help guide her when she needed to still be in full control.

And Cullen? He didn’t give a damn. He’d be there for her every step of the way for he had never
thought to find someone that loved him… that accepted him… that gave him a son…

Never. Not after everything he had done.

So when he offered their son back to her, and watched her curl an arm around him and hold him
against her chest, kiss his forehead to settle him and calm him… he smiled. He might not have
much time left to go about any hobbies of his own, but he didn’t care. He was beyond happy with
his life now – another thing he didn’t think he’d ever be again.

“You were always better at that.”

She looks up at him with a quirked eyebrow that told him she didn’t believe him – and it also
wasn’t completely true. Both could settle their son and comfort him. He had no preference: he was
neither a mummy’s boy nor a daddy’s boy. There seemed to be trust even there that no matter to
whom he turned, the baby would always be comforted, helped and guided.

Nevertheless, she eventually smiled and took the compliment from her husband.

Slowly, Cullen engulfed her and their son in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Relying on
each other this much was dangerous, really… it could turn toxic for couples… but… that was only
true for any other couple in similar positions. Both knew that the other could let go should the need
arise, both knew that the other was only looking out for their little family… Both trusted each other
enough to know nothing would ever turn toxic.

And it never did either.

The two swayed together, staring down at their son as he slowly fell back asleep, held by both his
parents, together… and safely…
 Dragon Age: Alistair / f!Warden - 'Rose'
Chapter Summary

The rose that Alistair gifts the Warden stays with her throughout thick and thin, up
until their very last moment alive…

Chapter Notes

WELL that turned MUCH sadder than I originally meant for it to be o.o is this fluff?
Idk…I don’t think it is… uh… well… it’s cute? But sad?

Goodness…

Anyway… the last day in week 3 is for the big puppy Alistair Theirin, with the
‘defining word for their relationship’ being ‘rose’. I didn’t even hesitate to snatch this
word for Alistair. It’s perfect for him XD

TW: Character death. The Calling.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The rose which Alistair had given her during their travels to showcase to her what a rare and
beautiful thing she was amidst a blighted world filled with death, had stayed by her side ever since.
She’d cast a cryogenic spell on it, one Morrigan (reluctantly) had taught her for that very reason. It
stayed in her coat, in her bag, and later, as consort to the King of Ferelden it stayed on her desk,
glowing with magic within a glass jar.

It meant the world to her… The man who had given it to her meant the world to her…

The only way that rose would ever wither and die, was if she withered and died.

Unfortunately, as a warden, her death would be sooner than others’.

As would the king’s; Alistair’s.

Their Calling had started on the same night. Alistair, amidst their despair and panic, had found the
words to call it destiny. Whilst the world was against mages being in relationships, something
bigger than society was not against it; was not against them and was aware of their love enough to
allow them to face death together.

This way, they could walk hand in hand down into the Deep Roads and battle to the end of their
lives together.

This way, neither had to be alone during the darkest, most gruesome times of their lives.

The rose remained standing tall on her desk. No one dared take the throne whilst it did, the entire
country avoiding the inevitable truth of loss every day that rose was still beautiful and alive.
 But it was indeed just avoiding the truth with the knowledge that no one had died down there yet.

On a cold, midwinter evening, weeks after the King of Ferelden had gone to meet his Calling
alongside his fellow Hero of Ferelden… servants found the rose on the desk withered and dead,
magic gone.

And everyone knew what that meant… and they finally mourned the loss of their hero, and their
king…

Chapter End Notes

I'm so sorry D:
 Star Trek Enterprise: Trip / Malcolm - 'Together'
Chapter Summary

When Trip messes up with his words, Malcolm worries that what happened between
them was nothing more but a one time fling – Trip is quick to reassure Malcolm that is
not the case. They will always stay together.

Chapter Notes

AYYE the last week is here! :O It’s a little daunting, really. I’ve been writing and
uploading consecutively now for a few weeks and I already know I’m going to miss it
once February is over… And I’m especially going to miss writing for this pairing D: I
really have to write more for them o.o

But let’s not think about that yet.

For now, let’s focus on the cute fluff still ahead of us!

For this week, we’re exploring each couple using the prompt ‘together’. Hope you
enjoy it! :3

“Thank you for choosing me.”

Trip blinks in surprise at the words, turning to glance at Malcolm. The two were in Trip’s quarters.
Malcolm was already fully dressed, but Trip had yet to put on any shirt, uniform half around his
body, the sleeves of it tied around his naked waist. The muscles in his arms rippled as he tied his
shoelaces absentmindedly, focus on the other person in his quarters.

“What you say?”

“Thank you.” Reed takes a deep breath, shifting to stand in the middle of the room and looking
extremely awkward, gaze cast away from the man. “For choosing me.”

Trip tilts his head. Was he thanking him for…? “Well – I mean, that’s about the strangest thing
I’ve ever heard after a hook-up but-“

“That’s not what I meant –“ Malcolm blinks in shock, cheeks reddening. But there’s a pause in his
words, his head tilting in sudden suspicion. Immediately, Trip realizes that he’s made a mistake.
He recognizes that look from when something suspicious catches the attention of the Chief of
Security. “That’s… That’s what it was?”

“Oh-“ Trip quickly stands and takes the few steps needed to reach Reed. Neither reach out to each
other, but the proximity already calms Malcolm slightly. “Sorry. Just… force of habit. I… I might
have had girlfriends but I was more… inclined to stay with them all just the once.. if you catch my
drift.”
Reed nods his head, eyes casting down in what Trip immediately recognizes as a look of concern.

“Now – that’s not me saying that’s what this is.” Only then does Trip reach out and press his hands
against Malcolm’s upper arms, tilting his own head down to try and catch the man’s gaze.
“Malcolm, come on.” He finally manages to catch Malcolm’s gaze, and offers a reassuring smile,
charisma and lack of worry from Trip capturing the other man’s heart and seemingly lifting his
mood again as his shoulders relax. There’s a slightly cocky look in Trip’s eyes suddenly, his smile
turning into a smirk. “Were you really worried this was just a one time thing?”

Well yes, obviously – those words were written all over Reed’s expression. Reed doesn’t
particularly like the cocky look in Trip’s eyes, meeting it with a steely glare. “So?”

“I just find it… a little endearing.”

“Endearing?”

“Was I that good?”

A sigh escapes Reed and he pushes past the Commander, hearing him chuckle. “I never said that.”

The sass in Reed’s words makes Trip pause and lift his brows. He turns to watch Malcolm stop by
the door. Dramatically, Trip places a hand over his heart, letting out a breathy ‘ouch!’ at the words.
He catches Malcolm smile a little at the performance. “Well then… I suppose I’ll have to up my
game next time.”

“I suppose you do,” Reed sasses back, glancing back with a smirk of his own that comes off more
sultry than anything else.

As Malcolm reaches for the button to open the doors, something mellows in the air, the joking,
sassy atmosphere of the room fading into something… soft. Gentle. “Malcolm?”

The Chief of Security offers a glance in response, noticing the ever so warm and loving smile of
Trip.

“There will be a next time. We’re together, you know?”

“Together? You sound like a child in kindergarten.”

Trip rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Malcolm stifles a smile, trying to get ready to face the rest of the crew and not wanting to alert
them to any gossip they could be sharing. It would be… quite easy to put two and two together if
he came waltzing out of the Commander’s quarters with a big grin on his lips.

Instead, he nods his head in affirmation. “Yes. We are.” He does glance back to offer a smile, and
Trip bites his lip as he watches him leave, the door closing behind him.

A little too happy, heart jumping in his chest, Trip flops down onto his bed, staring up at the
ceiling with a goofy grin on his lips.

Together…
 Supernatural: Dean / Castiel - 'Together'
Chapter Summary

Together. “That was your goal, right? I mean you draped yourself in the flag of heaven
but ultimately it was all about saving one… human… right?” Right.

Chapter Notes

Day 2 of the last week of this challenge is here! This time, we’re looking at the prompt
‘together’ for the Destiel ship :3

Hope you enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Together.

“And the angel tablet? Arguably the most powerful instrument in the history of the universe is in
pieces and for … what again?” Castiel glared up at Metatron, remaining quiet, but his steely look
was saying just enough to confirm to Metatron that which all his brothers and sisters had already
noted and condemned Castiel for. “Oh yeah… that’s right. To save Dean Winchester. That was
your goal, right? I mean you draped yourself in the flag of heaven but ultimately it was all about
saving one… human… right?”

Together and yet so alone. His brothers and sisters… For eons, Castiel had been drifting around
with them, living with them, working with them, fighting for them, commanding his younger ones,
listening to his older ones… and when he needed them to step up the most, when he needed them
to be good… They left.

Was it really all just for Dean Winchester?

“Hey,” came the hunter’s gruff morning voice as he entered the kitchen, hair ruffled from his
pillow.

“Good morning.” Castiel was quieter than usual, and Dean spared him a quick glance before
shifting toward the coffee machine.

Had he really ruined his entire connection to angels, his entire connection to heaven, just for the
one human being… whom Castiel would outlive… whom was so afraid of committing that things
moved slower than it might for two immortal beings to hook up…

No it wasn’t being afraid of committing… it was being afraid of losing. Both felt that. And so their
relationship was there, but it was quiet. Their little thing. Their little secret. So no one could
intentionally ruin it. So they could hide the pain from others should they lose each other.

In their profession, death was a given. Sooner rather than later, one of them would die…

This was the best way to go about it. Quiet. Safe.

That’s why Castiel had remained quiet when Metatron was taunting him. That’s why Castiel was
always quiet when anyone pointed their finger at his affections toward the one human…

“You okay?” Dean sat down opposite Castiel, coffee cup in his hand and a suspicious look on his
face.

Castiel simply nodded.

“You sure? Because you look like a kicked puppy.”

“Why would anyone kick a puppy?”

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. “I agree. Especially…” Dean quieted down again, eyes flickering
over Castiel’s form.

A little flicker of warmth spread through Castiel’s being as he understood the unsaid words:
especially you, Cas.

Together… and maybe not so alone after all.

The nights were sometimes long – waiting until Dean woke up again. But he would wait. Always.
Dean needed his sleep. It was important that Dean was healthy.

“I was just thinking about heaven.”

Dean tilted his head curiously, but when Castiel didn’t continue talking he spoke up: “What about
it?”

“How I lost it.”

A frown appeared on the hunter’s forehead. “It’s right there. You can fly up, can’t you?”

“Yes… but I don’t belong anymore. Everyone knows…” Why was Castiel opening up about this?

“What?”

“Everyone knows that I am yours.” The wording caught Dean by surprise, and his brows jumped
up and down. Then he shifted slightly on his chair, glancing over his shoulder to check whether
they were alone or not.

“Yes.” He said, putting his coffee cup down and ‘casually’ resting his hand in the middle of the
table, close to Castiel’s. “You’re family.”

Castiel offered a faint smile.

“We stick together. No matter what. Maybe those winged asshats upstairs have some feathers up
their butts… Let them. Cause you and me?” He pointed between the two. “And Sam? We’re
family.”

Together. He wasn’t alone. He had family. A found family that was extending.
 And best of all? He had lost heaven all for Dean… and he was happy about it. Casually, Castiel
shifted and placed his hand near Dean’s on the table.

Casually, Dean shifted his pinky a little closer, pretending it was an unwilling movement from how
he suddenly began tapping a finger on the table.

Casually, Castiel shifted his pinky closer too until they touched.

Casually, they held hands as Dean sipped his coffee.

And casually, they smiled. Together.

Chapter End Notes

How many times can I write 'casually' before it gets annoying? --- I think I stepped
over the line XD sorry 'bout the ending
 The Hobbit: Fíli / Kalâtha (OC) - 'Together'
Chapter Summary

During the wedding of Kalâtha and Fíli, nerves almost end the wedding. But there is
nothing the couple cannot face when they are together; when they're entire family is
together.

Chapter Notes

I thought this was a pretty cute idea… which of course meant that this turned really
long… oops

Today we’re exploring the prompt ‘together’ using Kalâtha and Fíli! The last one for
them! I hope you enjoyyy! :3

OH and hints at Bagginshield are here too because… I just couldn’t resist XD plus that
this is set in an 'everyone survives' AU, and post BOTFA.

Kalâtha didn’t need a formal ceremony to tell her she and Fíli would face life together. It had been
a rocky start for the two of them. It seemed to be a common theme for anything in Kalâtha’s life…
even her own life had started off tumultuously.

But she had found her way in life, and she had found her way back to Fíli.

Society asked for them to get married officially. It should be like a dream any young dwarf had;
marrying the one they loved, and on top of that… marrying the newly appointed king of Erebor.

It should be a happy day.

But Kalâtha was terrified.

What if she befell the same fate as her mother? What if she died much sooner than Fíli and broke
his heart? What if marriage made things feel forced? What if her becoming queen made her ruin
the new home Thorin and Bilbo had managed to make out of Erebor?

What if she ruined everything?

Everything…

“Open the door, Kal.”

“No.”

She was acting like a fool. She knew that. But no matter what they said, they couldn’t make her
leave this room and marry Fíli. She’d panicked the second she saw herself in the mirror, dressed
up as a bride, as a queen. But that was all she was: dressed up as a bride, as a queen. She wasn’t
any of those things – she couldn’t let herself be any of those things.

“Kal… You’ll do fine. Don’t you believe your best friend?”

“Go away, Kíli.”

A sigh, and footsteps retreating. But not all of them.

“Kally?” That was Bilbo’s name for her. “Darling, open the door.”

But she shook her head, curled further up into her corner, and continued to cry.

With a deep breath, Kalâtha nodded her head. The guards opened the large, wooden doors,
revealing the crowd filling the great hall up to its maximum capacity. The sea of people had parted
to offer her a path down the hall, all the way toward the steps leading up to the throne there. It
wasn’t the official throne, but it was the throne used by royalty during feasts or special events.

Up ahead, Fíli stood waiting, still crownless. Thorin stood in front of the throne. They were tiny
figures still, too far away for her to make out their expressions or faces. But she knew it was them.

Nerves made her entire body numb, and she thought for a moment that she might faint.

But then an arm hooked with hers, and she tore her gaze away from the watching crowd and the
throne up ahead to glance at Bilbo. The hobbit offered her a reassuring smile, squeezed her arm
close to his body, and gestured for her to take the first step when… and if… she was ready.

It was against formality for Bilbo to be there. In reality it should be her family, but she had no
family alive anymore.

So Bilbo had stepped in.

And so had Dori. He moved to be on her other side, hooking his arm with hers too.

She smiled and took the first step down the long path to her soon-to-be-husband… and throne.

Another knock on the door made her jump in shock and shake her head despite no one being able
to see. There was a shuffle of feet before the person knocked again.

“Narrâna? (Superior lady)” The nickname did not help Kalâtha feel any better, and she didn’t
respond even to Fíli. “Open the door, please. I want to talk.”

“You want to convince me.”

“Never… If you do not want this, we do not do it.”

“Fíli,” came Thorin’s voice, but Fíli must have sent a look his uncle’s way, or said something,
because Thorin didn’t continue scolding.

She also wouldn’t be entirely surprised if Bilbo had shushed Thorin. The king was quite
conservative in his ways, and wanted Fíli to ensure there were heirs in the future. He didn’t mean
anything by it, of course.

“Do you mean that, or are you just saying that to make me open the door?” But she was already
moving toward the door, crawling, pathetically, on all fours as tears continued to stream down her
face.

“I would never… manipulate…” he said sadly, unable to finish his sentence.

Her words had struck hard.

And she immediately opened the door, guilt pricking at her heart as she threw herself into his arms
before he’d been ready, the two stumbling slightly on the spot.

She cried. Sobbing.

And Fíli was quick to walk them back into the room and close the door behind them, shutting out
Bilbo’s concerned voice as he had tried to approach Kalâtha only to have Thorin stop him.

“Amrâlimê… talk to me…” whispered Fíli soothingly, arms holding her tightly against him.

She noticed he was all dressed up and ready for the ceremony too. It was not custom to see each
other before the wedding… but who cared when their loved one was not feeling okay?

She stepped back and let everything spill out: all her worries, all her fears, everything she felt
anxious about… She sobbed through it, and she was sure that most of it wasn’t very coherent, but
Fíli nodded along to show he was listening, that he understood, and reached out to wipe away
tears and snot from her face as she spoke.

When Kalâtha finished, Fíli offered her a gentle smile. “It’s nothing special, Kalâtha. It’s a
ceremony to show the people where we stand. But nothing is going to change between us. I
promise. Things will not turn bad, we… we aren’t your parents.” She swallowed down her
emotions at his words, and nodded her head. “As for the throne…” He chuckled, causing her to tilt
her head to the side in confusion. “If you think I can handle the throne any better than you? You
are mistaken. Thorin is giving you the crown, not me.”

“That’s not true,” she quickly defended. “He said he’s giving it to us.”

Fíli smiled, raising an eyebrow at her and waiting for her words to sink in with her too.

She blinked, and looked down at her hands.

“We’re doing this together, Kalâtha.” Softly, he lifted her chin up. “To work together. To be
together. Officially. As a statement to the world that you are finally mine.”

“I’ve always been yours,” she said through a smile, tears stopping.

“I know,” he smirked cockily, “but they don’t know. So let’s show them.”

“Are you sure you’re this confident nothing will go wrong?”

Fíli nodded her head. “But I will not do this if you are in doubt.”

“I’m only scared… I don’t doubt us.”

“Then we do this.”
“Together.”

As Bilbo, Kalâtha and Dori reached the steps leading up the throne, Fíli was there halfway up, an
outstretched hand offered to her, and kind, reassuring eyes watching her beauty with a twinkle of
admiration. She let go of Bilbo and Dori to reach out to his hand, fingers intertwining… and
suddenly, the giddiness a bride ought to have on this day finally reached her, a smile appearing on
her lips as it felt as though they were holding each other’s hands for the first time.

He helped her up the steps, holding onto her hand tightly, before both stood in front of Thorin and
the throne(s), crowd watching in anticipation and joy. To the side, Kíli and Dís stood watching
with giddy smiles, both ready to rush forward and hug both newlyweds the second Thorin had gone
through the boring stuff. Behind them, on the first row, their closest companions stood, Bilbo and
Dori having gone to join them.

But that felt wrong to Kalâtha, and in the middle of Thorin’s speech, she stopped him.

The crowd murmured in shock, and Fíli watched her curiously. He most likely would have thought
she’d gone back to being panicked, but her fingers still holding onto his calmed such anxieties.

Instead, she turned her head over her shoulder to look at Balin, Dwalin, Bilbo, Bofur, Bifur,
Bombur, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin and Gimli (and all family members belonging to them all).

And she gestured, with a smile, for them to join.

Dwalin was the first to step up, never one to shy away from supporting Kalâtha. He nodded his
head at her appreciatively, and with a hint of understanding, even, when he climbed the steps and
joined Dís and Kíli. Soon, the others did the same, and Kalâtha didn’t turn back to Thorin until
they were all stood beside the throne, like family.

Together.

Together did not just include Fíli. Together included all of them. All of her found family.

With a nod to Thorin, she notified him she was ready now.

And Thorin smiled. He didn’t continue with his speech, which had been a long talk on how Fíli
and Kalâtha would uphold the duties of the throne ten times better than the old, weary soul of
Thorin (his words, no one else’s), but instead he took his crown off and lifted it above Fíli’s head.
“Actions speak louder than words. You will both care for Erebor far better than I ever could. You
will unite our people far better than anyone can.”

Fíli bowed his head slightly, fingers tightening around Kalâtha’s for support. He, too, was slightly
worried about taking over these duties, after all. He had been from the moment Thorin had started
grooming him, he had been since the beginning of the quest for Erebor.

And Kalâtha held onto his hand, squeezing it for comfort.

Together.

Together they turned to face the crowd as they cheered for their new king and queen.

Together, the entire family smiled down at their fellow kin.

Together, they would make Erebor a prosperous and safe dwarven kingdom again.

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