#I’m trying to think and besides the regular fighting and injuries | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

highfunctioningflailgirl · 2 years

Text

Long Way Back

Porthos enters the infirmary, pulling his hat off as if it were a church. It feels like one, these days - too quiet, something big pressing down on them from above, a looming power that doesn’t seem to hear their prayers.

“How is ‘e doin’ today?” Porthos asks Athos, seated beside the sole occupied bed, the figure in it still and seemingly asleep.

Athos casts a somber glance across the patient and rises from his chair, looking older than his thirty years.

“He’s taken some soup. And I think his headaches are less severe. Or maybe he’s not telling us.”

Porthos nods. He should take this as good news. Any change, as little as it is, is good news at this point. But it’s not good enough.

Athos puts a comforting hand on Porthos’ shoulder.

“This kind of injury takes a lot of time to heal,”he says. “We know this. Aramis knows this. Give him time.”

Not trusting his voice to be steady, Porthos only nods again.

“D’Artagnan will be here in two hours.” Athos reaches for his weapons belt and slings it around his hips. “And he says he can stay the night. Go home then. You need sleep.”

Porthos chuffs. “No more than you, my friend.”

One corner of Athos’ mouth curls into the fragment of a smirk. Weapons belt fastened, he shrugs into his leather jacket and grabs his hat.

“I’ve received word from Sister Marie,” he says.

A small warm spark springs up in Porthos’ heart. The Sister, a friend of the Musketeers and an accomplished healer, has saved one of their own before, and perhaps she can do it again.

“Does she think she can help Aramis?”

Athos pushes his hat onto his thick curls and pulls it low into his forehead.

“She says she wants to try. She wants us to bring Aramis to the convent. Let him recover there, in her care. I think it makes sense.”

Immediately, Porthos bristles at the thought of taking Aramis away from the garrison. Away from his and his brothers’ care and protection. You don’t separate the Inseparables. You don’t break that bond. It’s never led to anything good.

But if there’s anyone he is willing to trust with Aramis, it’s Sister Marie. She’s worked miracles before. And Aramis is in need of a miracle. And what better place to recover for a man of faith like Aramis, than the sacred halls of a convent where his body and soul can heal in peace? Athos is right: it makes sense.

“‘S a good idea, Athos. We should organize transport as soon as possible. Maybe Treville will grant us leave to accompany ‘im. Stay for a few days till he's settled.”

“I’ll talk to Treville. I’m certain he will.”

With a last pat on Porthos’ shoulder, Athos walks out the door.

Porthos rubs his hands across his face and finally approaches the bed to sink into the chair Athos just vacated. As he does, he sees Aramis stir. His bandaged head rolls to Porthos’ side, and he makes a noise of distress. It sounds like pain. A string of spittle drools from the corner of his mouth. Porthos uses a towel from the bedside table to gently wipe it away.

“Hey, Aramis,” he says softly, in a voice he would use for a sick child. “How are ye doin’ today? Care to open yer eyes for me? There ya go.”

The injured Musketeer pulls sluggish eyelids apart and looks at Porthos, the purple bruises under his eyes turning his gaze into a dark pit. At least he’s lucid now. There’s clear recognition there in his eyes, one pupil still larger than the other, unlike on that first day when he’d regained consciousness and looked at them emptily, like a blind man. The shock still runs deep through Porthos at the memory.

They’d known it was more than just the regular concussion. When Aramis had taken a bad fall during a fight and smacked his head against a balustrade, hard, they’d all heard the crack of bone. In the days to come, their primary worry had been if he’d pull through; if he’d wake up at all. And somehow, they’d all hoped that if he woke, it would be with a dramatic complaint and a feeble joke, as he usually did after getting conked on the head.

But they had not expected an Aramis who did not recognize them, who could not talk and whose left arm and leg lay still at his side, unmoving.

He’s improved, since then. He still has trouble speaking, slurring his words and hating that he does, so he mostly remains silent. The left side of his face isn’t drooping anymore, and feeding him has become easier, although he still cannot do it himself - or simply doesn’t want to eat, as Porthos suspects. He also suspects that Aramis understands every word that is spoken in the infirmary, even when he pretends to be asleep. Aramis’ eyes, so dim on those first few days, have regained their clarity, even if the vibrant spark in them remains missing.

They look at him now, those eyes, pools of bottomless black. No joy. Only darkness.

“Not talkin’ today, are we?” Porthos comments, anger mixing into his despair. “Well, we’ll see if Sister Marie can change that. An’ she usually doesn’t take no for an answer.”

Aramis throws him a dark look.

“Ah, so you overheard us, did you?”

The bandaged head turns away again, to the wall. With his right hand, Aramis makes a weak pushing gesture in Portho’s direction. Go away.

“M not goin’ anywhere,” Porthos says stubbornly. “Not until you get up an’ make me.”

Still looking at the wall, Aramis huffs, and it sounds dangerously like a sob.

Immediately, Porthos feels terrible. Even if Aramis wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to stand. Although Doctor Lemay claims that Aramis’ reflexes are returning, his left leg and arm are still paralyzed, and no amount of massaging seems to make a difference so far.

At first, Aramis had fought. He’d willed himself out of the semi-conscious stupor of the first days and fought for every little improvement: to hold his own cup, to push himself up in bed, to make himself understood as his speech had begun to return. And Athos, d’Artagnan and Porthos had cheered him on every step of the way.

But as time passed, and as progress slowed to a near-halt, Aramis’ mood turned black, and they’re all at a loss what to do.

“C’mon, you’ll like it at the convent,” Porthos tries. “You love Sister Marie! And the nuns will be excited to have… you know. They all love you.”

“M’nah go’hn.” Garbled and forlorn.

Porthos puts his hands on his knees and leans forward.

“Oh yes, you are, an’ I’m personally gonna make sure you do!”

“Cahn-n may me.”

“Watch me try.”

A heavy moment of silence drops. Porthos stares holes into the too-thin, defiant bundle of misery who’s turned away from him, awkwardly lying on his paralyzed side.

Aramis. Majestic, athletic, dazzling Aramis who makes every woman’s (and man’s) head turn when he walks into a room, has turned into a ghost of himself, and it breaks every fiber in Porthos’ heart to see him this way.

“Aramis?”, he says, gently now. “Please?”

And then he sees the thin shoulders begin to tremble. On instinct, he scoots from his chair onto the bed and rolls Aramis into his arms. He hugs his friend tight, and Aramis stiffens at first, but then he relents and, crying silently, he clings to Porthos with his good arm while his left–

“Aramis! See that?”

Porthos carefully sits back a bit, still holding his brother upright, and points at Aramis’ left hand. It’s clutching the rosary they’ve wrapped around his wrist. Holding the rosary.

“When did that happen?” Porthos asks, elated.

Aramis opens and closes his hand, clumsily and weakly. The muscles hold little power, and he still cannot lift his arm when he tries. But he’s moving his hand.

“Dun- … dunno,” he stammers, remarkably less enthusiastic than Porthos. “N-not much… ‘f anythin’.”

“Oh, it’s something.” Porthos smiles and smacks a kiss into Aramis’ dark curls. He knows they haven’t won yet. He knows his best friend has a long way ahead of him, and whether it’ll lead him back to being a Musketeer is a question that has no answer at this point. But Sister Marie has a plan at the convent for him, and he’s moving a limb that has been a dead weight for weeks, and his brother may have some fight still left in him after all.

“It’s everything, Aramis. It’s hope.”

Also on AO3, if you prefer:

#whumptober2022 #whumptober #no.8 #head trauma #the musketeers #bbc musketeers #aramis #porthos #athos #major character injury #hurt/comfort #hurt aramis

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clairecrive · 3 years

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can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted “fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.” So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai lanstov one shot #nikolai lanstov fic #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lanstov x y/n #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lanstov angst #nikolai lanstov fluff #nikolai lanstov blurb

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff / Reader - The One Where You Punch Tony Stark - Chapter Three

Gif is not mine, but i love it.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4 || Read on AO3 (Complete Work)

Summary: When the rumors that you punched Tony Stark in the face spread around your school, some interesting events unfolded.

Warnings: 18+; Enemies to Lovers; Angry Sex; Underage Sex; High School AU; Violence; Fights; Inappropriate language; Fluff and Smut; minor mentions of Reader x Carol and Reader x Jessica Jones.

Notes: This work was already finished on AO3, but i forgot to continue this on Tumblr. I hope everyone who thought that was a one shot, enjoy the rest of it.

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Chapter Three - Sometimes it’s just a date

You don't like water polo. Actually, you don't like watching the water polo team.

With next week being finals week, you would like to have a quiet period. But then, the track and field and water polo finals are making the athletes restless, and you have to deal with the excitement of your colleagues around the halls.

Maybe Natasha is right, you are pretty grumpy when it comes to socializing.

Participation in a sports team is mandatory from the first year on. Principal Thanos had approved this rule as an "incentive to healthy living," and only students with a medical condition could get away with it. You considered falsifying a medical history many times, but eventually you agreed to join the lacrosse team. You kept your performance average, just to maintain your grade. And even when the coach saw potential in you, you told her that you had no interest in participating in the championships.

And then you were sitting on the team bench, watching your team play on the field while the crowd cheered as you watched. All sports were encouraged, after all, usually all students attended all kinds of games. You watched Natasha wave to you from the stands, and you smiled back.

You were almost falling asleep, then a chorus of startled exclamations coming from the audience startled you, and you looked quickly at the field.

Your teammate, Gamora, suffered a foul and was being helped off the field by her teammates. You looked down the field with a frown, hoping that she was all right. But then she was taken off the field on a stretcher, her knee bandaged. It didn't take long before the coach came to you and signaled that you were going to have to replace the girl.

Letting out a grumble of protest, you stood up, grabbing the bat the coach offered you, and stepped onto the field.

Your approach to playing was interesting. You were aggressive and impatient, but efficient. You scored three points, and tried not to be bothered by the attention you were getting. And then, when your team won, you tried not to push the girls who jumped on you during the celebration.

As you joined the team in the locker room, the coach asked to speak to you privately.

- I wanted to say that I was surprised by your performance, but in fact I always knew what you could do. - She commented as soon as you were alone in her room, inside the locker room. You shifted the weight of your feet, awkwardly.

- Thanks, I guess. - You say, and the teacher smiles tenderly at you.

- Tell me, Y/L, do you have plans for college? - she asks, leaning on her desk.

- Not really, Coach. - You say. - I sent some applications, but after my suspension, I don't think I will have much of a chance.

- You know that something like a position on a regular team can count in your favor. - She comments, and you shrug.

- I have only played in two games so far. - You hit back. She smiles.

- Oh yes, and you performed flawlessly. - She says. - What I'm saying is, I could write you a letter of recommendation. If you commit to play with us until the end of the school year, of course.

You frown, thinking about it.

- I wouldn't want to take Gamora's place.

The teacher laughs, shrugging her shoulders.

- Don't worry about it, we can arrange the team for you to play together. Besides that, unfortunately Gamora will not participate in at least two games because of her injury. And she will be happy to know that you are helping the team to win.

You nod, putting your hands in your pockets.

- Okay, I'll take it then. - You say. - Only for the letter of recommendation of course. - You joke, and the coach goes to one of the drawers. She pulls out a first team uniform. - This is yours. - She hands it to you. - And please try to control your temper on the field.

The coach winks at you, and you laugh slightly, accepting the uniform. You nod slightly and walk out of the room toward the showers.

- I can't believe you're a jock now! - Natasha jokes when you tell her you joined the team. You laugh, pushing her slightly. You are sitting at the tables in the outdoor cafeteria during the second break.

- Please don't say that. - You say playfully. Nat just smiles, taking a bite out of her snack.

- But anyway. - she says after a moment. - Are you still going to the concert on Saturday?

You let out a sigh and Nat looks at you curiously.

- I'll tell you something, and you promise not to hate me?

Nat laughs, imitating a promise sign, and you shake your head, smiling.

- Go ahead, say it. You're making me curious. - She asks. You laugh, trying to build up courage.

- I have to tell Carol I'm not interested. - You begin, and Nat raises her eyebrows in surprise. - I'm liking someone else.

- Wow, Jones really got to you? - She assumes, and you laugh, denying it with your head. - Wait, there's a third girl? My God, you're unstoppable.

You laugh ruefully, and Nat follows you. You swallow dryly before speaking and look at the table where you are sitting.

- I am in love with Wanda Maximoff.

Nat lets out a surprised exclamation, and then laughs, thinking you were joking. And then she notices your expression, and widens her eyes in surprise.

- My God, you are serious! - she exclaims. But then she smiles at you, and puts her hand on your forearm. - Hey, I don't have a problem with that. I was just a little surprised.

- Really? - you ask with a sigh of relief. Nat smiles at you.

- Now explain to me how this happened. - She asks, cupping her face in her left hand as she looks at you intently. You take a sip of your soda before speaking.

- Actually, this has been going on for some time. - You confess. - Me and Wanda... well. The first person who knew I liked girls was her. - You tell, and Nat lets out a surprised exclamation, but does not interrupt you. - We have been in the same class since elementary school. When we were in eighth grade, she saw me kissing Mary Jane Watson behind the soccer fields. I asked her not to tell anyone, and she never did. - You say, and Nat listens attentively. - And then she became who she is now, and any interaction we had seemed like we were going to jump around each other's necks at any moment. - You sighed. - And then, after the soccer game, I gave her an orgasm against the locker room wall.

- Wait, what? - exclaimed Natasha in surprise. - My god, you had sex with Wanda Maximoff? - She practically screamed and you raised your hands and waved for her to keep her voice down. Nat laughed with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. - I can't believe it. I don't even know what to think about it.

You mumbled with embarrassment, looking away.

- Just keep it down, please. - You asked, and Nat laughed.

- Are you two in some kind of secret relationship now? - she asked, and you laughed ironically.

- Not at all. - You say. - She completely ignored me after that. And then we argued during Ms. Hill's class.

- Shit, I'm sorry about that. But are you still willing to take this anywhere? Since you are going to dismiss Carol.

You blink slightly, thoughtfully. Then you shrug.

- I'm only going to dismiss Carol because it's not fair to be with her while thinking about another girl. - You explain. - And I don't expect Wanda to want anything to do with me anyway.

- I see. - Nat says, giving you a sad smile. - But I think she would be very stupid to let someone like you slip away.

You smile sadly, and you go back to eating. Before long the break is over, and you share Nat's displeasure at having to go to the health class.

Health classes are awkward. At least now that you and Natasha were friends, you were distracted by her jokes. Professor Wade Wilson was known for his humorous and completely unfiltered attitude during class. He made jokes and pranks, and didn't care much if the students were actually learning something. You remember when you were learning about the effects of alcohol on the body and he brought a bottle of whiskey and shared it among the students. Counselor Fury was not happy at all.

But occasionally you learned very important things in class, like how to clean wounds made in laboratories, for example.

You figured he would follow the programmed curriculum, but you should know better. Wilson came into the room, sat down at his own desk and signaled for everyone to go to their seats. Nat exchanged an amused look with you.

- Good morning, brats. - He said as he took something out of his pocket. The room erupted in giggles and comments as he held up a rubber penis and vagina. - Let's talk about sex today.

- Finally, eh Mr. Wilson! - shouted Tony Stark ironically, causing the class to laugh. You saw him give Pepper Potts a mischievous look, while the girl just smiled and fiddled with her hair.

- Well, I need to teach you how to put on condoms first. - says the professor with a slight irony in his voice. - Because of course you are all innocent in this matter.

The class laughed, but you were distracted scribbling in your notebook. The professor leaned over to read the attendance list on his desk.

- I need two of you to demonstrate your knowledge to me. - He says. - Stark and Y/L/N come forward please.

Nat nudges you with her elbow and you frown. She nods toward the desk, and Professor Wilson is already looking at you. You mumble a "shit" before getting up and walking to the front of the room.

- Please demonstrate. - He says handing a condom to you and one to Tony, who gives you an angry look, and you roll your eyes. Tony moves toward the plastic vagina, but Wilson laughs, putting his hand in your way. - The other prosthesis, Mr. Stark.

You watch Tony's red cheeks with disbelief, and you also hear the giggles that circulate around the room. Tony quickly opens the condom with his teeth and puts on the rubber penis with his shaking hands. Then he turns to the class, putting his hands in his pockets.

- Who can tell me what Mr. Stark did wrong? - asks the professor, but no one raises their hand. You wonder if people just don't want to say that Tony Stark was wrong, or if they really didn't know. - Really, guys, nobody?

- He bit the package, sir. - You grumble, feeling all the stares on you. Wilson lets out a happy exclamation as he looks at you.

- Yes, exactly, Miss Y/L/N. - He says, looking around the room again. - When you bite the condom wrapper, you can damage the condom, and consequently, take away its effectiveness. The class takes note of the information passed on. - Now, Y/N, please. Demonstrate how to use the female condom.

You let out a sigh, and turn to the table, without preventing other students from seeing what you are doing. Quickly, you open the package and put the condom on the prosthetic. Professor Wilson lets out a chuckle, congratulating you for handling it correctly, but as you turn around, you hear Tony Stark comment loudly:

- With so much practice in real life, it should be easy. - He says, and the class bursts into giggles.

- Stark. - The professor says with a scolding tone, but you assume a wry posture.

- Don't be like that, Tony. I'm sure Steve will be happy to let you practice with him. - You fight back, and the laughter swirls around you.

- Look, here you bitch... - Tony steps forward and the professor stands in front of him, with a serious expression. You think this is the first time you've seen him angry.

- You two come with me immediately.

And so you end up sitting in Nicky Fury's office again, with Tony Stark in the chair next to you. You both stand with your arms crossed and looking straight ahead as Professor Wilson explains the confusion in his class. Fury nods and says that he will handle everything, and the professor gives him an understanding smile before leaving the room.

- I have been waiting to talk to you two. - says Fury as he sits down at his desk. - Who would like to start?

- I have nothing to say. - says Tony in a harsh tone. You want to punch him again.

- That's too bad, Mr. Star. - says Fury. - You will stay here until someone tells me the nature of this conflict.

You let out an irritated snort.

- I've told you before, Fury. - You say. - Stark is an arrogant piece of shit who has no respect for anyone.

- You're fucking insane, girl! - Tony cuts you off, and you refuse to look at him. Fury lets out a sigh.

- Please, I will not tolerate this kind of verbal aggression in my office. - He says. - If you don't answer me, I will simply recommend that you both be expelled.

You and Tony are silent, both with furious expressions. But then you remember the promise you made to the coach, and let out a sigh.

- I punched Tony in the face at his eighteenth birthday party. - You confess, surprising them both.

A moment passes, and you think Fury is finally going to expel you, but then Tony speaks up next to you.

- I provoked her. - He confesses. You look surprised, and Fury just waits for Tony to clarify. He lets out an impatient sigh before speaking. - I followed her out and said some rude stuff.

Fury is thoughtful for a few minutes, and then he makes some notes in his notebook. You began to drum your fingers against your thigh, uncomfortable.

- Would you like to tell me exactly why you did that Tony? - Fury asked.

Tony let out an impatient grunt. And many moments passed before he spoke again.

- I don't know, okay? - He says, running his hands through his hair nervously. - I only saw her kissing a girl and then I was outside. I didn't want her at my party.

- I should have known you were a homophobic jerk. - You say, and Tony tells you to go fuck yourself. Fury warns you both again.

- Tony, I've heard rumors about your relationship with Mr. Rogers. - Fury begins and Stark straightens his posture, his face red. You think the conversation is getting interesting. - Don't you think, perhaps, your reaction to seeing Miss Y/L/N has something to do with it?

- I don't want to talk about it. - Tony grumbles. You stand there thoughtfully, understanding what Fury meant. He had suggested that the only reason Tony hated you so much, besides being a complete idiot, was because he rejected his own sexuality.

- We're going to talk about this privately, Mr. Star. - Announces Fury. - That will be my last warning to you two. No more fighting. If I hear that you two have renewed conflicts, I will recommend your immediate expulsion.

You and Tony nod, and Fury releases you with a detention card. You grumble, but leave the room, closing the door while Tony and Fury stand talking in private.

You never imagined that you would see Pietro Maximoff in detention. But when you thought about it, it actually made sense.

Sitting in the back of the room, you were even more surprised when he looked up at you, and gave you a shy smile. You blinked in surprise and looked away.

Professor Charles Xavier only taught history to the senior year, which left him with many free periods throughout the day, so he was also responsible for the detention class. It worked well, since it seemed that no one could hide anything from her, and detention ended up being quite efficient.

He came into the classroom with a book in his hand, and sat down, staying for many minutes without saying anything at all. And then he asked everyone to pair up, and you looked incredulously at Pietro Maximoff as he sat down in front of you.

- You're kidding me, right? - you said as soon as he arrived. Peter laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

Before Pietro could say anything, Professor Xavier announced that the class should make a short summary of the last subject he taught in class, which drew a disgruntled gasp from the few students present.

You started to take the materials out of the backpack and put them on the table.

- I wanted to thank you. - Pietro said as the professor sat down. The class was buzzing with murmurs, all the students talking about their work, and Charles didn't seem to care, focused on his book. You looked at Pietro with your eyebrows raised, and he smiled wryly. - For helping me that day.

- It's a natural reaction, Maximoff. - You retort, looking away from him and start writing in your notebook. Pietro chuckles.

- Yeah, I know. - he says. - But still, thank you. The nurse told me that if you hadn't been so quick, I might have had an injury that would have prevented me from playing football.

You shrugged, not knowing what to say. You were silent for a few moments, each concentrated on his summary, and then Pietro stopped writing and you felt him looking at you.

- What is it now? - you asked without taking your eyes off the paper.

- Do you like music? - You raise your eyebrows incredulously as you look at him.

- Everybody likes music, what kind of question is that?

Pietro laughs awkwardly.

- Sorry, you're right. - he says humorously. - I actually meant, do you know "The Panthers"? They are a rock band. They are playing in town on Saturday and…

- Are you asking me out? - You blink in confusion. Pietro shrugs.

- As a thank you. It's not a date. - He adds quickly when he sees your expression. - I'm going to the show with some friends.

- I'm also going to the show. - You retort, and Pietro assumes a surprised but happy expression.

- Great, we can see each other there then!

- I guess. - You grumble, turning your attention back to the summary. Pietro smiles, and a moment passes before he hands you a small piece of paper with a phone number.

- Text me when you get there. So it'll be easier for us to meet. - he suggested.

You blinked in surprise, but remembering that Fury had told you to avoid conflict, you just put the paper in your pocket, and you and Pietro finished the exercise. He handed your summaries to the teacher, and sat down in front of you again. You left your hands in your pockets as he turned to you.

- What did you do to be here anyway? - you asked. Pietro stretched out his legs, leaning his back against the wall.

- I followed your lead. - He said humorously, and you frowned uncomprehendingly. He laughed, then clarified. - I punched Tony during practice.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

- Wow, I didn't see that one coming. - You say. - May I ask why?

- He said some things about my sister. - Pietro says, locking his jaw as if remembering the conflict. - And then I punched him in the mouth. - He grimaces and imitates the move with his hand, making you laugh slightly.

- What did he say? - You can't help the question from escaping your lips. Pietro doesn't seem to mind though, shrugging his shoulders.

- Stupid comments about her, sex stuff. - he says. - We were training and he decided he was free to talk about her body to everyone on the team.

You swallowed your anger, not wanting to show it to Pietro, choosing only to nod.

- When he does it with other girls is it okay then? - you tease without holding back. Pietro frowns, denying it with his head.

- Of course not. - he says, and straightens up. - Look, I know you have an opinion about me. But I'm not a complete idiot. I don't treat girls that way.

- Oh, right. - You say it with irony. Pietro laughs, knowing exactly what you're talking about.

- I am serious. - he says. - I know what the school says about me. I don't like commitment, and I've been with a lot of girls. But I didn't cheat on any of them. - He clarifies, shrugging his shoulders. - And I don't treat them like objects.

- Congratulations for doing the minimum. - You say a bit harshly, and Pietro laughs.

You fall silent again, and then Professor Xavier dismisses the class.

Pietro waves and smiles at you as you leave detention, and you think that maybe you have been teleported to a parallel reality.

Carol picks you up at your house. You both put on your leather jackets, and she thinks it' s pretty hot.

The Panthers' concert is very crowded, and it is held in an open field on the edge of town. When you arrive, Carol holds your hand to lead you to your group of friends. You don't mind.

You hug everyone, and mention that you like Thor's new haircut, who had cut his long hair and was wearing an earring in his left ear. You were talking for several minutes in the food cart area, since the show was going to take a while to start.

Then Pietro Maximoff saw you and waved excitedly, and his friends looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and incredulity. Natasha laughed softly in your ear before he approached.

- So glad you could make it! - he said cheerfully. You decided not to mention his choice of clothes, since Pietro came with the team jacket.

- Hi Pietro. - You greet awkwardly, but he looks cheerful, and greets all of your friends with a smile.

- Hey, you're owls, aren't you? - He says. - I've seen you at state when we played there last year!

Your friends smile and nod politely, and then Pietro looks around, and waves. A group of people join you all next. You feel your body tense up the moment Wanda Maximoff walks up to you, and then a deep irritation hits you as you notice a tall boy with his arms around her. You think you have seen him before in geography class. Also in the group are your classmates Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, and Peter Parker, the last being a freshman. You barely register the words of introduction that Pietro makes, your attention completely on Wanda, who looks surprised and slightly embarrassed to see you.

Your friends greet Pietro's group, and you look away from Wanda to pay attention to his words.

- If you guys don't mind, can we all stay together? - Pietro suggests, and you want to scream that you can't bear to stand next to the boy holding Wanda without strangling him, but your friends agree, looking excited to interact with new people.

- Let's stay in the north stands, it's better to see. - Said Valkyrie signaling the direction, the group agreed and you started walking. Natasha hugged Clint and gave you a suggestive nod in the direction of Wanda, which made you roll your eyes in humor. And then Carol threw her arm over your shoulder, and you wanted to laugh at the deadly expression Wanda threw at you before looking forward. Carol didn't notice.

When you arrived at the chosen area, you sat down on the grass. The group was well-mixed, and everyone seemed to be talking to each other. You felt Wanda's gaze on your back, but you refused to look at her. Thor and Bucky handed out the snacks that they had bought with the group, and as you drank your soda, you felt Carol's hand on your thigh.

And then she kissed you, and you knew you had to talk to her. You asked her to walk with you, and you walked back to the entrance of the show, which was now completely empty.

It was quick, and impressive easy. Carol smiled and said that everything was fine, and said again that you never made promises to each other. She gave you a kiss on the cheek and went back to the group. You told her you would buy some candy before you went back.

When you reached the snack bar area, someone pulled you behind a pillar.

- I want to talk to you. - Wanda said angrily. You rolled your eyes impatiently, putting distance between your bodies.

- I'm all ears. - You said with irony.

- I don't want you dating anyone else.

You let out an incredulous laugh.

- You've got to be kidding me. - You spoke in anger. - Are you even listening to what you're saying now?

- Why are you going out with that girl? - Wanda asks in the same tone.

- You're a damn hypocrite, you know that? -You accuse her, moving closer. -Wanting to impose demands when you're having sex with that jerk.

Wanda rolls her eyes, and you think you might explode with rage. And then you grab her around the waist and push her against the pillar behind her. Wanda lets out a surprised exclamation and her gaze falls directly to your mouth.

- You think I don't know how you feel, don't you, Wanda? - You whisper, looking at her with a mixture of seriousness and desire. - Tell me, do you pretend it's me touching you when you're with him?

Wanda lets out a sigh, but lifts her head, not responding. You let out a wry laugh, and then you press your knee firmly against her core, and she shivers and lets out a low groan, closing her eyes tightly.

- Don't forget to moan my name tonight. - You say it against her ear, and then let go.

You walk back to the group, feeling hot and bothered. You exchange a look with Natasha, but say nothing.

Wanda comes back a little later, and during the entire show, you feel her looking at you.

You refuse Carol's ride when the show ends. She waves with a smile, and leaves. And then you wave goodbye to everyone, and decide to leave by bus. You liked public transportation because it helped you to think while you looked out the window.

- Be careful, troublemaker. - asks Nat as she gives you a hug goodbye. She is sleeping at Bruce's house and will not accompany you on the way back.

Pietro has had a few too many beers, and gives you a tight hug when he says goodbye, saying that the night was incredible. You laugh at his reaction. You don't say goodbye to Wanda.

And then you are walking to the bus stop, with your headphones on, and you almost stumble in shock when you feel someone touching your shoulder.

- Fuck, girl! - You complain as you turn around. - What is it now?- Go on a date with me. - Wanda says looking at you.

- What?

- Go on a date with me. - She repeats, smiling.

You blush, and look down at the floor, suddenly feeling very warm. You wave your hands inside your jacket pockets.

- Now?

Wanda nods, and you bite back a smile on your lips.

- Okay. - You agree.

You turn and sit down at the bus stop. Wanda sits quietly next to you. You raise your hand and take out one of your headphones, offering it to Wanda. She smiles when she accepts, and you listen to some music together while you wait for the bus.

Since the vast majority of places in town were closed at this time, you took Wanda to a place that wouldn't be.

When you worked at the junkyard, you discovered many interesting places when you had to pick up equipment for your boss. One of these places was the city's port.

You knew that there was a secluded area of the municipal harbor with an incredible view of the sea, and so you guided Wanda through the bars and down the concrete path. You sat on the edge, your feet dangling a few feet from the ocean below.

- How did you find this place? - she asks, staring at the landscape.

- Working at the junkyard made me explore the city. - You answer also looking straight ahead.

You are silent for a moment before you ask:

- What should we talk about, Wanda?

- Anything. - She says. - Or nothing at all.

You smile.

- I don't know what is going on between us. - You confess, and Wanda lets out a sigh.

She says nothing and you almost give up trying to talk about your relationship, and then she puts her hand on top of yours, looking at the ocean in front of you.

- I'll tell you one thing, and you promise not to freak out, okay? - she asks, and you nod.

Wanda looks down at her own lap, and takes a deep breath, as if she is taking courage.

- I think I'm in love with you. - She confesses, and you feel your heart race. - It's been a while, actually. I guess I just realized it now.

- How long?

- Do you remember when I saw you kissing Mary Watson in the eighth grade? - She asks and you nod. - I just... I didn't know why it bothered me. And then, you told me to keep it a secret and I got so jealous that every time I saw you I just wanted to slap you. And then we started to fight and I pushed all the feelings aside hoping they would go away. And then game night happened.

You remained silent as you absorbed Wanda's words. She spoke again before you could.

- Damn, I know this is a lot to absolve. - She says. - I understand if you just want sex. Or if you'd rather not talk to me anymore.

You interrupt her monologue with a kiss on the lips, which makes her gasp. But you pull away, smiling shyly at her.

- I'm in love with you too, Wanda. - You confess, and watch Wanda's cheeks turn red.

Wanda brings your mouths together again, and you kiss her intensely. You giggle with relief and happiness, and then Wanda hugs you around the neck, and you let your arms wrap around her tightly, sinking into her body heat as you close your eyes.

You hold each other for long minutes, until you break the embrace to look at Wanda tenderly. You find her to be the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. Running your fingers over her face, you smile tenderly.

- What will happen now? - you ask, and try not to be intimidated by Wanda's hesitation.

- I don't know. - She says. - I want to be with you.

- Are you ready to admit this to everyone?

Wanda closes her eyes for a moment, and you think she is going to deny it. But then she nods in agreement, and you feel a new surge of excitement hit you.

You let out a relieved laugh, and kiss Wanda's cheek, pulling her into a hug. She giggles against your grip. You then settle down, sitting side by side as you put an arm around her shoulders and she leans her head on your chest. Wanda intertwines your hands in her lap as you gaze out over the ocean in front of you.

- Do you really think Darcy and Elizabeth wouldn't be together? - she asks, and you laugh, not moving away.

- Actually, I just disagreed with you, because you're hot when you're mad. - You joked, making her laugh.

The night went by quickly after that. You and Wanda cuddled while talking about various random subjects. You watched the sunset together, and she kissed you hard before getting on the bus to her house.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #high school au #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wandaxreader

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atlabeth · 3 years

Text

everything happens for a reason part 3 - zuko x fem!reader

I feel so much, I get carried away

part 2 | masterlist | part 4

a/n: enjoy the fluff in this chapter bc its not gonna last

once again for reference - this chapter takes place 2 years after the last one so y/n is 11 and zuko is 12

warning(s): eating/food, but otherwise its pure fluff

wc: 3.3k

chapter title comes from carried away by madison beer!

i ran out of kid zuko gifs so i had to make my own smh if you want something done you gotta do it yourself

The young friendship only flourished after that fateful day. Zuko and Y/N began spending almost all of their freetime together between Y/N teaching him about her culture, their usual talking in the hallways, and finding ways to hang out together outside of her schedule. She was absolutely delighted to be teaching Zuko though, so she always made sure there was time for her self proclaimed academy.

Y/N was constantly busy around the castle, so in order to hang out they had started waking up extra early — the pair had become experts at sneaking around the castle with the first rays of the sun. The gardens were a favourite because of its availability, and of course, the turtleducks. It also gave Y/N a chance to bend outside of healing, something that they began to take advantage of as they got older.

Sparring sessions became a regular between them as a way for Y/N to get some practice with martial bending, Zuko to experience fighting against a waterbender, and just another way for them to spend time together. Of course, they had to keep it as quiet as possible to avoid alerting anyone of their presence, but that became the least of their worries over time.

They each pushed each other to be better, and with Y/N’s healing skills, they were able to walk away every morning without any injuries. But after discovering a very unfair advantage that the prince held, she decided that morning sparring just wasn’t enough.

(“Firebending gets stronger in the morning,” he had told her after a particularly brutal blast resulting in some emergency bending on Y/N’s part to extinguish a tree. “My teachers always say that we rise with the sun.”

“Well,” she had said with a smile. “We rise with the moon. You just signed yourself up for some late night sparring sessions.”)

Y/N had truly started to come into her own. It had been two years since her capture, and though she had in no way made peace with her life in the Fire Nation, she was trying to take advantage of it as much as she could. Even though she despised being at the beck and call of nobles and guards, she couldn’t deny the opportunities it gave her to hone her abilities. Her healing had improved tenfold and her martial bending wasn’t too shabby either. Between all of the time spent with Zuko and practicing her bending, she was able to distract herself from her dim reality.

But the world was a cruel, cruel place, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. It didn’t treat souls like Zuko and Y/N kindly, a fact that they would soon become aware of.

In the moment though, Y/N was more focused on not getting burnt.

She twirled to the side as a small flame shot past her, just barely managing to dodge it as she bent a stream of water out from the pond and sent it at Zuko. He turned it to steam as he blocked it with his own fire, which he then sent back at her with a combination of a punch and a kick. Y/N raised her hands and bent up a large wall of water from the pond, and with a small grunt on her part, sent it flying towards Zuko. He tried to conjure up his own fire shield in an effort to extinguish the water once more, but it was too little too late and he ended up getting knocked to the ground and completely drenched.

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from her lips as Zuko wiped water off of his face, sputtering incoherently while he pushed himself up. “Did you really have to do that?” he complained.

“You know I do.” She grinned as she walked around the pond to his side, cracking her knuckles before she began to bend the water out of his clothes. “This was in the morning, too. Admit it, I’m getting better!”

He cracked a smile of his own. “You really are. I just wish that you getting better didn’t end up in me getting soaked every time.”

She bent the water she had extracted from his clothes back into the pond and held out her hand to help him up from the ground, which he took gratefully. “That just makes it more fun.”

As she helped pull him up, Y/N found herself more than a little transfixed. The rays of the rising sun shone down on him perfectly, and the smile still on his lips made her feel flutter bats in her stomach.

Y/N didn’t know when she had started seeing Zuko in a different light than usual. When his laughs became melodious, his smile like a ray of sunshine on its own, his company coveted. While she was usually able to trade verbal jabs with him without a second thought, doing her self-assigned job of keeping him humble, something had changed in the past year.

They grew steadily closer over the years after they had met, but one event in particular all but pushed Zuko into her arms.

Ursa’s banishment.

Of course, they didn’t know that she had been banished. No one aside from Ozai knew the true nature of her disappearance — to her children and the other inhabitants of the palace, it was just that. A disappearance.

It was suspicious, yes. All in the span of a day, Princess Ursa vanished, Fire Lord Azulon mysteriously perished, and Ozai took his place, but nothing could be done. It was a somber day for every servant — Ursa showed them a kindness that couldn’t be found anywhere else in the palace, and to rub salt in the wound, a man just as cruel as Azulon had risen to the throne.

Zuko was devastated. He had always been close with his mother, and the only thing she had given him before leaving was a short goodbye and a kiss. He was angry beyond belief at the abandonment, and that anger overshadowed his grief.

Y/N tried to help him, but he lashed out at her.

“Your mother is still here and she loves you! Mine left me like I was nothing. Don’t try and say you know how I feel.”

“But my father is gone. I do know how you feel Zuko, and I want to help you, but I can’t help you if you keep pushing me away.”

“…you don’t know anything.”

It hurt, but she knew he needed space. She gave it to him, letting him brew alone and take out his anger however necessary, but let him know that the door was open when he was ready to talk.

He did — he had apologized for what he said and she accepted, and Zuko ended up spilling every emotion he had to her over the next few weeks. She listened, offered advice when she could, and made Zuko feel a little bit less alone in the scheme of it all. It was a horrible experience, but it brought them closer together, and the prince was eternally thankful that he had a friend to help him through the ordeal.

The night that he came to her room, admitting that he was hurting and asking for her help — Y/N thinks that was the moment she fell for him. She cursed herself at the time for developing feelings for her only friend in the palace, but over time she learned to cover them up. She had to remember her place.

She understood her role, but it got harder and harder to keep up with it the more time she spent with Zuko — this moment was no exception.

“Yeah, yeah. I just hold back because I don’t want to burn you.”

“Liar!” she exclaimed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. “You forget that I can heal myself if anything goes wrong. Besides, I know you’d never burn me. I trust you.”

Zuko smiled and smoothed his clothes back down, the only sign of their sparring session now gone. “Good, because I trust you too. No matter how many times you totally drench me.”

She snorted as she started to walk back to the palace. “Like I said, that just makes it more fun. And as fun as it has been completely crushing you in combat, duty calls.”

He sighed, giving a reluctant nod as he started to follow her — then his eyes lit up, and he grabbed her arm to stop them. “Wait, how much work do you have today?”

Y/N thought for a few seconds then shrugged. “Dunno, it varies. I got stuck working with Jaysa all this morning, so that’s going to take forever, I have my usual healing lessons with Master Rika after, and then I usually just end up going around with whatever else comes my way for the rest of the day.” She grinned and lowered her voice as if the subject of the matter could somehow hear her. “I’ve been working on a dress for my mother in secret because her birthday is coming up soon, so the free time I get between my shifts that isn’t spent with you has been going towards that.”

Zuko gaped. “You’re making her a dress all on your own, with no help? How?”

She held up her hands with a proud smile. “These things are good for waterbending, sewing, and hitting best friends.”

He gave her a sideways grin at that. “I’m your best friend?”

Y/N snickered and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, dummy. You’re like, the only person that likes me in this whole nation. Of course you’re my best friend.”

“Well…” he started. “Would a best friend like to break the rules even more tonight?”

Her eyes lit up in turn, completely betraying her excitement despite her attempt to look nonchalant about it. “That depends — what d’you have in mind?”

He grinned and leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper as he spoke in her ear. “So, after you finish work for the night, we…”

It was a struggle to get through all of her work after the plan that she and Zuko had formulated — sure, they broke the rules all the time. The basis of their entire friendship was breaking the rules, but this was going farther than they ever had before. Y/N wasn’t thinking about the consequences though, she was thinking about the journey — that was her first mistake.

She had rushed through all of her chores with Jaysa, hardly paid attention in her healing lessons, and made quick work of the rest of her day until she was finally able to meet up with Zuko at one of the various servant entrances that she had shown him.

“You’re finally here!” he exclaimed, his body buzzing with nervous energy. “I thought you were never gonna come.”

“Some of us actually have work to get done, mister crown prince,” she joked as she bumped his shoulder with hers. “But that doesn’t matter — let’s get going before someone catches us! I don’t want it to get too dark either.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Zuko reassured. “My dad is in war meetings all day, no one is going to catch us. Now come on!”

Zuko pushed open the door, grabbed her hand, and began to pull her along. A laugh fell from her lips as they ran, unable to stop herself from casting a cautionary glance behind them as they got farther from the palace. Y/N tried to push her worries out of her mind — like she had told Zuko earlier, she trusted him.

That was her second mistake.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak past the guards around the wall and just as quick to get through Royal Caldera, and before Y/N knew it, they had arrived in the city.

It was nothing like she had ever seen before.

The village she had grown up in was miniscule compared to anything in the Fire Nation, and she was especially awestruck upon entering the city. As home to more middle class citizens than anything, it was a bustling marketplace filled with workers and nobles alike — if she hadn’t been preoccupied with the stars in her eyes, she would’ve been able to see the way Zuko was absolutely beaming at her.

“Come on!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand once again as he began to walk — at a much more moderate pace than their run here — down the streets. “There’s so much here that I wanna show you. Have you ever been out here?”

She shook her head, allowing herself to gawk at her surroundings while they went down the street. “We aren’t really allowed to leave the palace since we’re technically still prisoners, just… ones that work. My mother always had to give her money to one of the other servants so that when they went out to buy their things, they could pick some stuff up for us as well. This is all totally new.”

Once again, a frown found its way onto Zuko’s face, but only for a split second before he pointed at a stall opposite to them. “Oh— there’s a fruit stand! Come on, you have to try this.”

Y/N let Zuko pull her over to the stand, looking at the array of fruits on display while Zuko conversed with the merchant. A few silver pieces later and they were walking away with a basket of produce — miraculously, the prince hadn’t been recognized, so she figured he wouldn’t need a disguise. Third mistake.

“Here,” he said, offering her a mango from the basket. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Fire Nation mango.”

She took the fruit from him and bit into it, her eyes immediately widening as she turned on Zuko. “Tui’s gills, this is delicious! You’re telling me that you people just have this on hand but we don’t get any of it?”

He shrugged and took a fig from the basket as Y/N wiped some juice off of her chin. “There’s a reason I’ve helped you break into the kitchens so many times. Now, where do you wanna go next?”

The pair spent the next couple of hours browsing the marketplace, enjoying their day on the Fire Lord’s coin. Zuko was more than happy to show Y/N parts of his culture after all she had taught him, and she was more than happy to experience it. They had been able to buy lanterns for the upcoming Festival of Szeto, purchase their own blends of tea leaves, and of course Zuko insisted on getting fire flakes and gummies.

(Y/N thought he was insane. Why in the world would the Fire Nation want to make food that hurt them on purpose? She was going to stick with her newfound love for mangoes.)

But Zuko hadn’t even brought her to the best part yet.

“Can I open my eyes now?” She asked, her anxious tone betraying her curiosity.

“Now you can.” Y/N was met with Zuko’s grin and as she focused on the stand in front of them, she had to make a conscious effort to not gape.

Zuko had brought her to a sewing stand with all the threads, fabrics, and silks that she could dream of in all kinds of colors. She immediately rushed forward, unable to stop herself from running her hands over and through each and every piece of material — she was in a seamstress’s heaven.

“I take that as a sign you like it?” Zuko asked happily.

“Oh, definitely,” she confirmed, still completely caught up in all the choices. “This is so much better than all the material we’re given to work with!”

“That’s why I brought you here. I thought you could get some stuff for yourself, and some stuff to help with the dress you’re making for your mom. I don’t really know how sewing works, but I thought that this was one way I could help.”

“That is so sweet of you!” she gushed. “Thank you so much — you should probably get around to some of the other stalls because I… I think I’m gonna be here for a while.”

Zuko laughed and fished out of a couple of golden pieces then set them in her hand. “That’s okay. I’ll meet you over by the steps; we can watch the sunset together.”

They nodded as parting gifts and each was enveloped in their tasks; Y/N beginning to ask the merchant questions about everything at their stand and Zuko off to entertain himself for a few more minutes.

Soon enough, Y/N had her own small bundle of silks and fabrics, her mind already going off in a million different ways of how she could incorporate it into the design. She found Zuko sitting on the steps and as she took her own seat next to him, he handed her another mango.

“Did you find everything you wanted?” She nodded and hummed gratefully as she accepted the fruit, taking a bite as her eyes fell on the skyline in front of them.

“I had a really great time today, Zuko. I really can’t thank you enough for taking me out here. I… I think I forgot what it was like to feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“...happy.” She paused for a second before allowing herself to meet his eyes. “All the time I spend with you in the palace… It’s one of the only times that I really do feel happy. And being out here today, getting to walk around where I wanted and buy things and just— I feel free, Zuko. And that means everything to me.”

She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and she turned away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that—“

Zuko gently reached out for her hand, drawing her attention back to him and the soft smile on his face.

“Well… I care about you. You’re nice to me, and you take time out of your day to help me which you don’t have to do. This is just me trying to pay you back for all you’ve done to help me. We can do this more often — whenever my dad’s busy.”

Her own smile grew on her lips and she nodded as she laced her fingers with his. “I care about you too. And.. I’d like that.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder and together, they watched the sunset over the city.

There was no place either of them would rather be.

Y/N and Zuko made their way back to the palace as quickly as they could after realizing how late it had gotten. Y/N was sure that she was going to get the talking-to of her life after what she had done, but she was almost giddy after what had just happened. She could deal with any of Kura’s consequences later — right now the only thought in her mind was the feeling of Zuko’s hand in hers.

The night had been nothing short of perfect. She had felt freer than ever before out there in the city with Zuko, and knowing that he reciprocated the feelings she had for him was enough to make her heart burst. She cared for him, and he cared for her.

Of course, there was that nagging question of how they would continue now that their friendship had morphed into something more, but once again — it was something she would deal with later. Her fourth and final mistake.

But as a guard turned the corner, Y/N realized she might not get the chance. She quickly let go of Zuko’s hand and tucked it under the bundle of fabric, hoping that the gesture of affection had been missed by the man.

If he had noticed, he showed no sign of it. He stopped in front of them, a gruff voice speaking from behind the mask with words that made her heart stop.

“Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord has requested an audience with you.”

haha OOPS

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko fic #zuko #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender fic #atla #atla fic #zuko avatar #sadie writes

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archived-kin · 3 years

Text

arcade date with levi (with a twist)

note from kin: the twist is that, rather than just meeting up and going to an arcade for a date, you and levi are actually characters from two different games in the arcade that come to life at night and go on cute romantic hijinks together! (wreck-it-ralph au essentially)

you, simeon, and luke are from a battle game, levi and his brothers are from a side scrolling platformer, solomon is the tutorial dude in an experimental alchemy game, diavolo is the owner of the arcade, and barbatos is the janitor! your character’s costume is basically the same as caesar’s from jojo’s bizarre adventure, and you’re kind of the pseudo-leader of your game’s characters

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn!reader, leviathan, luke, simeon, lucifer, solomon

pairing(s): levi/reader

warning(s): guns, non-descriptive injury

genre: fluff

“Lights out!”

You cheer and hop out of your character selection box, stretching out your cramped limbs, then sitting down with a huff. Beside you, Simeon falls out onto the floor in a tangled heap of cape.

“Thank goodness,” He sighs, turning around and lying flat on his back. “Is it just me, or were our patrons picking me far more than usual today…?”

Luke carefully slides out of his own box, landing neatly on his feet with a little flourish. “Yeah, normally [Name]’s the crowd favourite…”

“It’s all those new promotional posters, I bet,” You hum, pulling off your headband and fanning yourself with one hand. “Seems like Diavolo’s really been pushing the angel series lately.”

“I wouldn’t call it a series,” Simeon says, chuckling slightly as he undoes his fancy cape. “There’s only two of us, after all.”

“Well, you’re the only ones out of us who actually have a theme between them,” says another one of your fellow fighters, taking off his hat and twirling it around a finger. “Anyway - [Name], shouldn’t you be going off to meet that loverboy of yours soon?”

“Oh, right!” You jump to your feet, dusting off your pants. Then you pause, raising your hands to pat at your face. “Wait, do my triangles look okay?”

“Your triangles look fine,” Simeon sighs, reaching over and tapping fondly at the little patches of paint on your cheek. “They always do.”

“Alright!” You adjust your scarf and throw the ends over your shoulder, tying your headband around your wrist. “I’ll be off, then! You guys know the drill, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, boss,” calls one of the younger fighters, hunched over in front of his box and scratching restlessly at the tip of his nose. “Not like we haven’t been doing it every day.”

“Don’t get cheeky,” You scold, but give his pompadour an affectionate pat on your way past anyway. It feels almost concerningly solid beneath your touch. “I’ll be back before morning!”

Your fellow fighters give a collective murmur of assent that’s abruptly cut off as you open the network door and hop into a wire. You’ve gone on this path so many times that it’s practically muscle memory at this point - six sections ahead, then to the left twice, a right at the purple junction, and then another four sections forwards.

The Tale of the Seven Lords’s network door is already open when you jump out of the wire, and the first thing you see when you poke your head in is Lucifer polishing one of the transport tubes used to get between levels. He’s discarded the fancy coat that he has to wear all the time as part of his character costume, and you don’t blame him - you couldn’t imagine even just running for five minutes or so with that one, let alone jumping about and punching at things for about fifteen minutes at a time, often longer.

“Lovely evening, Lucifer,” You greet brightly. He pauses in his work for a moment, then turns to look at you.

You’ve never gotten the feeling that he particularly likes you, but you’ve been trying your best to stay on his good side - after all, one must need the eldest’s blessing to date one of their younger brother. And your efforts must have paid off, too, because the corner of his mouth actually lifts slightly when he sees you grinning at him around the side of the door.

“[Name],” He says with a nod. “Levi’s up on Level Six.”

“Right!” You skip inside and shut the door behind you. “Good day?”

“About as good as it can get, I suppose,” He sighs, and you silently cheer. Willing small talk - that’s progress! “Most of our players for today picked either Belphie or Satan, so I got to take a break of sorts.”

You’ll never understand why some of characters in this arcade dislike actually being played so much - after all, isn’t that your entire purpose? Still, if Lucifer’s happy about not being picked, you’ll be happy for him as well. “That’s good!”

“Indeed,” He says, allowing a rare proper smile. He pulls back from the transport tube. “Up you go, then. Levi’s been restless all day - excited, no doubt.”

“He’s so cute,” You coo, adjusting your headband around your wrist to make sure it doesn’t slip off. “We go on dates all the time, but he’s still just as enthusiastic every time.”

“As Asmo likes to say, I suppose that each date should be just as exciting as the first,” Lucifer says evenly as you hop up into the transport tube, taking care not to get the freshly-polished metal grubby. “At any rate… Levi seems to be happy. So I suppose you must be doing something right.”

“What a wonder, right?” You reply with a laugh, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I’ll have him back before first light. Promise.”

“If you say so,” He says dryly, and stands back as the transport tube sends you up.

Just as Lucifer said, Levi is bustling about on Level Six, accompanied by Belphie, who’s having a whale of a time snoozing on one of the platforms and letting his brother do all the work restocking the power-up bricks. Levi abruptly straightens up as soon as you pop out of the transport tube, as if he can sense your presence immediately, and turns to see you waving happily up at him.

His face immediately lights up, and he hops down from the brick he’s standing on with a goofy jump sound effect, landing beside you with a slightly wobbly grin. Slightly out of breath, he greets, “Hi.”

“Hi,” You repeat back to him, kissing his cheek. From up on his platform, Belphie makes an exaggerated retching noise.

Levi absent-mindedly chucks an inactive supersize star behind him at the sound, and it hits Belphie directly in the forehead with a high-pitched ping, sending him toppling backwards off the platform. Luckily, fall damage isn’t programmed into this game, so he lands on his back with nothing but his pride hurt.

“Ready to go?” You ask, disregarding the rather thunderous-looking brother behind your partner. Levi nods eagerly.

“Yeah! Belphie can take the rest of my bricks. He’s barely done anything so far.”

“It’s not my fault so many people picked me today,” Belphie groans, getting up and catching the rest of the power-ups that Levi tosses his way. “I’m tired…”

“You’re always tired,” Levi replies, shaking his head. “Get Beel to do it if you’re so desperate to sleep.”

“Maybe I will,” is Belphie’s final retort before you and Levi disappear back down the transport tube.

Passing Lucifer at Level One again, the two of you slip out through the network door and hop into the wires. Your destination today is the Suspect Sorceror’s abode - one of your regular date spots, and one of your particular favourites.

Despite the fact that the two of you see each other pretty much every day as soon as it’s lights out, there’s always a fresh kind of thrill to the prospect of spending time with Levi, no matter how much you do. It’s kind of like your heart grows wings every time you’re around him - you can’t help but feel all light and fluttery inside.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone - heck, you didn’t even know it was possible for you to feel like this! Every character in this arcade is programmed with a set personality that’s simply impossible to break away from. In some cases, some characters are reduced to such one-dimensional traits that they can only ever respond to anything with one of a predictable and very limited number of possible reactions.

Incidentally, your code has established you as a rather boisterous and confident person who doesn’t always think before they punch, while Levi’s has always dictated him as rather self-conscious and insecure, but passionate about his interests. Neither of you have ever been programmed with anything close to the sort of AI that would be required for you to develop your own feelings separate of your codes - and yet, somehow, you have.

You’ve never pretended to understand your own existence. You’ve not very smart, after all; where your programmers gave you excellent fighting spirit and leadership skills and an unwavering sense of determined justice, they seem to have forgotten to give you very many brain cells. Even so, you’re fully aware of the impossibility of the nature of yours and Levi’s relationship.

Still, your philosophy has always been that worrying about the little things never benefits anyone in the long run. Well, this might not be a little thing, but if there’s anything you’re good at, it’s goofing off to avoid getting too dismal.

You hop out of the wire as soon you’ve reach your destination, landing neatly on your feet with your arms spread wide in a rather flamboyant flourish. Levi scrambles to follow suit, but loses his balance on his way out and immediately starts heading directly for the floor; you quickly dart forward and catch him by the arms.

Levi’s panicked eyes dart up to meet your own, and before you’re even fully aware of what you’re doing, you deftly lift him into the air and give him a smooth twirl, then set him on solid ground once more. His knees immediately nearly give out beneath him, and you have to reach forward to catch him again before he takes a tumble.

“Wh-wh-wh—” Levi’s entire face is a bright, burning red. You’re pretty sure you can actually see smoke coming out of his ears. “You— huh?”

It’s just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen; you can’t help but lean forward to plant a kiss on the very tip of his nose. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to have been the right move, because Levi immediately goes stock still, then abruptly slaps his hands to his face.

“You alright?” You ask, crouching down with him as he slowly sinks down to the ground, practically steaming. You can’t help but laugh, feeling a little bad for flustering him so much. “Caught you off-guard, huh? Sorry.”

Levi shakes his head silently, then finally pulls his hands away from his face. His blush has calmed somewhat - it had been so aggressive that it almost looked like a rash before, but now it’s more of a sort of reddish dust - and he’s looking you in the eyes again.

“Y-y-you can’t just do stuff like that out of nowhere,” He says finally, leaning forward and dropping his forehead on your shoulder. “I have to prepare myself first…”

“Aw, that’s no fun,” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and rock him back and forth slightly. “You'll get used to it eventually!”

“You’re going to give me a heart attack,” He mumbles into the sleeve of your jacket, though you do notice that he’s deliberately pressing himself closer to you. “Well, you would if I had a heart.”

“You’re so cute,” You chuckle, pressing another kiss to the crown of his head. “C’mon, we’ve still got a date to finish!”

You give Levi another five minutes or so to get his face back to its usual colour and calm himself down, and he’s pretty much back to normal by the time the two of you step hand-in-hand into Solomon’s little alchemy hut - you with a wide grin on your face and him with a slightly shaky smile. Unfortunately, it seems that date night isn’t going to be going smoothly today, because Solomon is currently being held at gun-point by a character you’ve never seen before.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” crows the strange little man, brandishing one of his two revolvers in yours and Levi’s direction. You instinctively step in front of your partner, steeling your fists in case you need to fight. “Two lovebirds, is it?”

“Evening,” Solomon greets, not looking in the least bit fazed by the barrel he’s currently staring down.

“Who's this?” You ask in reply.

Solomon sighs and leans forward on his counter, ignoring the threatening click of the gun that the little man has pointed at him. “He’s from that shoot-em-up game a couple consoles down. No idea why he’s decided to show up here.”

You wrinkle your nose, reaching behind you to give Levi a reassuring tap on the arm before stepping forward. The little man watches you cautiously, keeping one gun carefully trained directly on your head.

“Your bullets aren’t going to work on me,” You say matter-of-factly. “I haven’t been programmed to take damage when a bullet hits me.”

“Won’t work on you, eh?” He raises an eyebrow. “How about your beau over there?”

You narrow your eyes. “He isn’t any of your business.”

Of course, you know full well that Levi’s game features projectiles that he certainly takes damage from, and while you don’t know if that extends to bullets from this man’s guns, you don’t want to risk it. You, on the other hand, have only ever taken damage from the punches and kicks your fellow fighters throw at you - or the beams of light Simeon and Luke shoot for their respective ultimates.

The man grins, and you note that he’s missing one of his front teeth. “So you won’t mind if I just fire a little bit at him—”

Your arm shoots forward before you even fully register it, and the man careens backwards with a cry as your fist lands directly in his face. The gun he’d been raising to point at Levi clatters to the floor and lets out a shot into one of the walls; Solomon winces.

“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?” You scowl, striding forward and planting a foot on the little man’s stomach. He struggles under your boot’s heel, cursing. “First you spoil our date, and now you’re threatening my partner. You’re really starting to piss me off.”

“If you’re going to start a fight, take it outside,” Solomon intervenes, shaking his head. “I’ve got far too many glass bottles in here to risk letting you have a battle in here.”

“Doesn’t matter where I fight as long as I get a good punch in,” You smirk, folding your arms across your chest slightly and glaring down at the man as he scrabbles at your boot, attempting to wrench it off of him. “So, what’ll it be? Either you get your guns and scram, or we can brawl right here and now.”

The man responds by reaching to grab the gun he’d been aiming at Solomon earlier and firing a shot at your face. You jerk back in surprise, foot lifting, and he immediately scrambles out from beneath your foot, pointing up at you with a gleeful laugh.

“See how you like that!” He exclaims. “Not so cocky now, huh?”

You slowly reach up to press your fingers to where the bullet struck you, directly in the forehead. Solomon raises an eyebrow, while Levi calls out your name frantically, stepping forward with his hands outstretched.

You shake your head as the man laughs, holding up a hand to stop Levi. “Stay there. I’ve got this under control.”

“Huh?” The man’s grin fades as you pass your hand over the hole, only for it to be gone when your hand moves away. “What the—?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” You ask, looming over him as he frantically attempts to back away. He gulps, fumbling with his gun, but before he can try to fire another round, you knock the gun out of his hand with a swift punch. “Your bullets don’t work on me, pal.”

He turns as if to run, but your leg immediately darts out to trip him, and he tumbles forward onto the boards of Solomon’s hut with a muffled yell. This time you plant your foot directly on his neck, setting a single hand on your hip.

“I’m only going to say this once,” You begin, staring him dead in the eyes. “So listen up - got it?”

The man attempts to protest, but your heel only presses harder into his throat, and he has no choice but to give his gurgled assent. You smile, but it’s a menacing expression.

“This game is under my protection,” You say firmly. “You don’t come in here and start threatening to shoot up the place - and you most definitely don’t point the gun at my partner. Got it?”

He gurgles again. You nod in satisfaction. “Then we’re all in understanding here. Now scram.”

You lift your foot, and he immediately fumbles to get to his feet. You stay on your toes, prepared for him to attempt to go for his guns again, but he only gives you one last terrified look before turning and booking it out the door, tail between his legs.

You stare after him at the swinging door. The hut is silent for a moment more.

Finally, Levi says, eyes wide, “I think that was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

#unedited #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #swd leviathan #swd solomon #swd lucifer #swd simeon #swd belphie #swd luke #leviathan x reader #levi x reader #wreck it ralph au #fluff #arcade #not sure how i feel about this one??? but eh

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luna-writes-stuff · 3 years

Note

Hey! I hope you're having a good dayyy

I saw ur requests are open and since ur lookin for sum,, can i request a thorin x reader fic (if ur still accepting hehe) where the story is similar to the ending part of the movie Artificial Intelligence (idk if you've watched that but ye the ending goes like this:

The boy (main character) wished to be with his mother again one last time, if only for a day :(( And so the aliens granted him this wish bbbut the mom didn't know she was already dead like after the sciency stuff, she woke up just like it was an ordinary day, and when the 24 hrs was up, she went back to sleep not knowing that that was the last time they'll be together :<<

So I was thinking maybe botfa?, either the reader or thorin died and then ^^^ anywayyy the magic is up to you ✨

I hope ur cool with dat,, if not that's perfectly fineee HAHA

One last day, Thorin Oakenshield

Just reading this request left me suffering. I hope I did your idea justice,,,,

anyways;

Headcanons, genderneutral pronouns

Tw: Pain. Lots of pain. Angst. Pain. Flashbacks to botfa. Pain.

- Thorin’s death had been the most difficult on you. You were left alone to rule a kingdom you didn’t have any experience with. Balin had helped you immensely, yet with every step you took, you felt as if you only worsened the kingdom.

- During the Battle of the Five Armies, you had been fighting on the other side of the planes, separated from your One. By the time you reached him, he had already left this world. You hadn’t even gotten a proper chance to say goodbye.

- And that thought had haunted you ever since that horrible day. Everyone had watched you dwelling, trying to guide others while you were unable to guide yourself.

- And then Gandalf finally decided that enough was enough. He had offered to help you say goodbye. If it would bring you closure, he’d do it for you. His terms were simple: he would bring Thorin back for one day, no more, no less.

- And you agreed, for obvious reasons. Perhaps a opportunity to say farewell would help you progress his death better. You had spent the entire evening thinking about what to tell him and what to do. You had been thinking non stop, until sleep finally caught up with you.

- The next morning, you (surprisingly) hadn’t woken up to the bright sun shining through your windows. It wasn’t the laughter and talking in the halls. It hadn’t been Balin knocking at your door. It had been snoring that woke you up. For weeks you had gone to sleep on your own, with nothing but darkness and silence surrounding you. But now, a snoring was heard. One that hadn’t been there the night before.

- You carefully turned around, but stopped halfway, noticing an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Your eyes quickly followed the trail of arms to hands, trying to understand exactly what was happening. The excitement of yesterday had washed your sense of reality within a matter of hours.

- Your breath had caught in your throat upon recognizing the hands. The rings it held, the small hairs resting on top of it, the way the fingers were shaped, but more importantly, the way they held you, the thumb resting gently as the rest of the hand held onto you. It had indeed been Thorin. Your Thorin.

- Tears had already started gathering in your eyes, harsh reality settling in. This was only for one day, but he was back. He was alive. Back with you.

- As the tears blurrier your vision, the quietest sniffle escaped your throat. Suddenly, the snoring beside you had stopped, an annoyed yet confused moan following it.

- You tried your best to get a hold of your emotions, but it was difficult when a scientifically dead person lay right next to you, as alive as you had been.

- “Amrâlîme,” he softly uttered, his voice deeper than usual, laced with sleep and confusion. Only hearing his voice again made another sob escape you, “are you alright?”

- His arm turned you around, now coming face to face with him. His hair was up in his usual braids, yet it was a bit tousled. He had his normal sleep attire on. Everything appeared as if it had been a normal morning. No injuries or blood covered his face and his eyes held life, instead of the horrifying look they had held when you saw him last time.

- Yet, as life had been shining from them, so was confusion and worry. His earlier question finally reached you and for once, you had no idea how to respond. What would you have to tell him. Would you give him the cold hard truth or enjoy your day of pretentiousness?

- “Just a bad nightmare.” You answered, trying to wipe your tears away. With no words left spoken, Thorin dragged you into his chest, your head resting on top of his heart. His beating heart. The sound of it alone, resurfaced a new pair of tears, your hands clinging onto his shirt tightly, holding him for a while, not ready to let go yet.

- Thorin had no idea what was happening or what had happened. In his eyes, you indeed just had a terrible nightmare and needed his comfort now more than ever. No nightmare has ever left you this shaken up, but he wasn’t there to ask you about it or to judge you about. He was content just laying next to you.

- The entire morning was just spent in bed, not even speaking that much, just holding onto each other, softly dozing off again, happy to be engulfed in his warmth and smell again.

- When finally deciding to get up, Thorin had been quick to grab you close to him, already busying himself with braiding your hair. The feeling had grown foreign to you, yet so nostalgic.

- As it became your turn to braid Thorin’s hair, you made sure you did your absolute best. Making them look perfect on your definite last day with him. You tried not thinking about it too long, knowing Thorin would grow concerned, and that was not how you wanted to spend your last day with him.

- When walking along the empty halls of Erebor, you held onto his arm, walking with him as if you were seeing the halls for the first time. He would tell you stories about the portraits or the stone that was being carved before Smaug took over. He would tell you about his heritage as he had done a thousand times before when in the Hall of the Kings. And you’d listen to it all. Occasionally offering a short question or a well appreciated comment.

- You had taken the opportunity to ask him about ruling and how to best approach certain situations, making sure to remember him after he’d be gone again. That way, there would still be a bit of him in control of the mountain.

- But the day had quickly run by, leaving you with only a few hours. You tried to make him stay awake all night, but Thorin was always looking forward to sleep. It had been there ever since the day the two of you met. His favorite time of the day had always been night, so he could let his worries fade away as sleep took him over, you content in his arms.

- And then you decided to finally ask that lingering question. Without thinking about it too long, you just asked him straight forward; “Thorin, I have a bit of a weird question to ask you.” You began. Immediately; his attention was on you, holding onto your hands gently.

- “Would all of this make it possible for you to die a happy dwarf?” A bewildered look flashed across his face, clearly taken aback by the question. “What makes you ask me that?”

- Now you had been driven in a corner. You had no idea how to respond. Should you be honest with him? Did you really have choice?

- Yet, a quick lie suddenly came to your rescue. “Just the nightmare I had tonight.” You explained, rubbing your thumbs over his hands. With that answer, Thorin smiled at you, one of his hands cupping your face, his figure stepping even closer to you.

- “With you by my side, I’d die anywhere a happy dwarf.” He commented sincerely.

- “You truly mean that?” You had questioned, not knowing if he had been just trying to soothe you or actually speaking the truth. But then yet again, Thorin had never been one for lying.

- “With all my heart, Amrâlîme. Truly.” And with that, he put a soft, yet lingering kiss on your lips, making you wish you could stay like that forever. You had believed him the moment he had uttered these words.

- “Now, I’m exhausted. We should go to sleep. It’s been a long day.” The dwarf concluded, toying with the end of your braids before dropping them. You mustered a tiny smile his way before climbing into bed.

- In a matter of moments, Thorin had been beside you, his arm around you like it had been this morning. You snuggled into his chest, playing with the rings around his fingers as his breath softly tickled your neck. Only now, your tears resurfaced.

- He hadn’t feared dying. Not as long as you had been with him. And you had been. For nearly all your life. You placed a small kiss on his hand. It was your small way of saying goodbye and thank you, but he didn’t know. For him, it had been a small sign of saying “I love you.”

- “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kurdel. Sleep well.” Thorin mumbled, placing his lips on your lips, a regular goodnight kiss he’d give you. But it wouldn’t suffice this day.

- You turned around, wrapping your arms around him as you kissed his lips in response.

- “I love you, Thorin. You do know that, right?” You mumbled against his lips, nearly touching them.

- “Of course I do. Men lananubukhs menu, ghisvashel.” He whispered back, kissing you once more.

- When you were finally happy with your goodbye, you laid your head on his chest, satisfied to hear it beating for a moment. The soft tapping of it lured you to sleep after a while. Thorin followed you shortly after it, always falling asleep only after you had. He was holding onto your hands, a proud smile on his face.

- And that’s how he left again. Happy, with you in his arms, knowing he had reclaimed his homeland.

- Upon waking up the next morning, you hadn’t even been that sad anymore. You knew Thorin died a satisfied man, and it was enough to bring you the comfort you needed. And finally, after a long few months, you felt confident enough to take the mountain into strong hands, ruling it as he would have. The braids he had made the morning earlier were still freshly in your hair, somehow seemingly untouched. And you left it like that, happy to care the smallest bit of him around with you.

#thorin #tolkien #lord of the rings #the hobbit #the company #the company of thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield #richard armitage #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin imagine

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akatsukinojutsu · 4 years

Text

the waltz of combat -- uchiha madara

Hi! Can I request some fun play fighting (or as he likes to call it-dancing) with madara haha! Thank you! --

Madara insists that the two of you spar (dance) to bring up his energy after he suffers an injury

Madara was mildly obsessed with you. No. He was obsessed with you. From the very moment that he watched you fight on the battlefield, he knew that he wanted you to be his. So, he did everything that he could do to make sure that he would get what he wants.

The Uchiha wasn’t your boyfriend but he might’ve well had been. He fucked you on the regular and thrived on making you sob in ecstasy under him. Every male in the clan knew to never look your way let alone touch you. A few learned their lesson when their fingers were broken when Madara heard they tried to make their move on you.

His obsession bothered you at times because he often scared away any potential relationship. Madara made is clear that everything between the two of you was strictly physical. You believed that. However, that could be further from the truth. Madara made a pact to himself as well as you (without your knowledge) that he would return safely from the battlefield every time; so that he could feel the touch of your skin again and feel your soft voice whisper his name. He would’ve never guessed these feelings he had were love. Love and infatuation.

He loved the way the candlelight glinted off of your dark doe eyes while he smothered you with wet kisses. He loved to hear your whimpers and squeaks when he ravished your body. He loved the fact that you small hands fit perfectly into his. That is something that kept him going and was just as important to him as his mission.

When Madara did not arrive home on time -- you thought the worse. He had given you a key to his house and told you that if he wasn’t home at the specific times then most likely he perished or something bad had happened. You balled the bottom of your shirt in your fists as you rolled the fabric nervously. Madara should be back by now... but he wasn’t.

You went to the door to go and search for him but he stumbled into the home when you opened it. He stumbled to the floor and you went to his aid. Madara had his hand clenched over his abdomen and red liquid was spread throughout his clothing.

“You’re hurt!” you cried as you tried to move his hand from his wound. Madara’s palm peeled back slightly and you were able to assess his wound, it was rather large. “Let me help you,” you tried to pull his shirt off but he hissed at your affection. “I’m fine!” he tried to stand up but stumbled back down to his knees. “Don’t be an idiot. Let me help you.” you pushed.

Madara continued to protest against your advances but eventually gave in when you managed to tug his clothing down past his shoulders. The Uchiha let you look at his wounds as he winced in pain. “Big bad clan leader is acting like this is a big deal,” you chuckled. “Shut up,” Madara snapped.

You filled a bowl with warm water and grabbed a washcloth. “I’m going to clean you up before I patch that wound with some stitches.” Your hand dipped into the bowl and wrung the fabric out. You proceeded to run the warm water over his torso. Your hands gliding across his chiseled form -- running over his pectorals, down his sternum, and to his muscular stomach. You could feel his abs through the thin washcloth, his body was god-like.

Each abdominal muscle seemed as if it were carefully crafted. Each space in between them held water because they were so defined and you felt lost in admiration of his body.

Madara grabbed your wrist which pulled you back to reality. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Your cheeks heated up and you shook your head before attending to your duties. You quickly stitched him up and insisted that he went to bed. You somewhat aided him to his room but he mostly walked on his own, pushing past the ache in his side.

Madara observed you from his bed when he laid down, his dark eyes watched you change in front of him before you crawled in beside him.

Despite his rather large wound in his side, he insisted that you laid on him for the night. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder tightly to ensure that you wouldn’t go anywhere. Knowing that you were there and feeling your body heat was sublime.

When you woke, you didn’t find Madara. He most likely was doing something that he shouldn’t be with an injury as extensive as what he had. You shuffled through his home and rubbed your tired eyes as you peered into each room in search of him. Soon you heard grunts coming from behind a door. They were Madara’s and your blood boiled at the thought of him possibly plowing himself into another woman. I mean -- things between the two of you were only physical, right?

You opened the door quickly to see Madara training with a post in his dojo. Relief washed over you when his grunts were not from having sex with another woman, but you immediately were concerned for his injury.

“What are you doing?!” you called out to him and he delivered another kick to the post before stopping. Madara turned to you and wiped sweat from his forehead. “Training,” he bent over to grab a towel from the floor and wiped his bare chest.

“You have stitches in your side! Are you trying to pop them?” you took a step toward him. Madara lent his hand out, “Dance with me.”

You knew that he meant to spar and not literal dancing. A sigh left your nostrils, “You’re going to rip the stitches, Madara.” His hand lightly wrapped around your throat and he pushed you up against the wall. His nose pressed against the crook of your neck and he breathed in your musk.

“Dance. With. Me.” he insisted. Madara placed a wet kiss in replacement of his nose, an erotic shiver shook down your spine. He pulled himself off of you and held his hand out in a fighting stance. You obliged and opted to give him a swift kick to his palm. Madara smiled at your strength and threw a punch. You blocked it with your palm and went for a punch, which the male blocked it with ease.

The two of you threw punches back and forth, dodging and blocking. Madara was much faster than you which you began to struggle with blocking his blows. He didn’t let up on his speed because he knew that you were better than how much you were currently trying. Despite having an injury, his abilities and strength were impressive.

You landed a soft kick to the side of Madara’s head. Which prompted a wide grin from your lips but a frustrated look on Madara’s face. He was able to give you a jab to your stomach which caused you to take a few steps back. Madara lunged at you, picked you up, and lightly slammed you to the matted floor.

The two of you breathed heavily and locked eyes. You both stared into each other’s dark eyes and stayed in silence for quite sometime. Madara remembered all the reasons why he loved being around you. Seeing you under him, sweat pooling from your pores, and reflecting on the waltz of combat; he was absorbed. A warm fluttered feeling spread through his chest, fuck, he knew what he was about to confess.

“You’re -- my -- everything, [Y/N].” he quietly admitted. You blinked several times as you processed what he said. “Wh-What?” Madara sighed, “Don’t make me say it,” he pressed his lips against yours.

“Are you trying to say that you’re in love with me, Madara-sama?”

Madara paused for a moment and turned his face from yours.

“What do you think?” he asked, almost embarrassed. You couldn’t help but see the Uchiha leader act like a schoolboy confessing his crush.

You cupped his cheek and placed a kiss on his lips. “It’s okay, I completely understand.”

#naruto imagines #madara uchiha imagines #madara imagines #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #naruto x reader #naruto #madara uchiha #madara

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ruckystarnes · 3 years

Text

Title: Trust

Author: RuckyStarnes

Words: 1,207

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: angst?, blood and injury, magic fighting

Rating: PG13

Square Filled/Daily Challenge/Prompt: C3: Free Space / Day 3: TRUST FALL / "Do you trust me? "

Written for/Dedicated to: @whumptober2021 and @buckybarnesbingo

Summary: Bucky sets out to find Wanda

Type: Moodboard/Fic

Normally, Bucky would mind his own business.

Normally, Bucky tried not to pay attention to anyone else.

Normal, Bucky pretended he didn't give a shit

But when it came to her…

Adjusting to life outside of control was not a cake walk. It was hard to act normal when you didn't even know what normal was anymore. Gone were the days that made sense, even though it felt like they happened last week, but at the same time, sins that were committed were fresh as the coffee he drank.

But at least that grew cold and forgotten, not the lives he destroyed.

Steve mentioned that he should talk to Wanda, see if she could help, but she disappeared after Stark's memorial, no one knowing where she went. Besides, shortly after everyone settled back in after coming back, he was in therapy and exonerated from his past crimes, even though he still felt he wasn’t.

It was months later when Sam gave him a call, telling him that there was a rumor that Wanda was somewhere in Eastern Europe after a debacle in New Jersey, which confused Bucky only on the fact that New Jersey was, in his opinion, a debacle by just existing. The new Captain America didn’t find it as amusing, but asked Bucky to use his knowledge to try to find her.

He couldn’t say no.

He started in what was the remains of Sokovia. Nothing. Ukraine, Romania, and Hungary held the same disappointment. He was about to give up until he thought about the Carpathian Mountains, isolated enough to hide and dangerous enough to keep people from even thinking about trekking because that was Latverian territory. Thankfully there were a few contacts still surviving that opposed Doom's rule and was willing to help even a reformed Winter Soldier to infiltrate the borders where a farmer on the outskirts made mention of a woman living in a cabin up between the two larger peaks. The hike took three days, which made Bucky glad for once to have the super soldier serum because if he was just a regular guy it might have taken him closer to a week to get to the clearing of the trees, the small cabin sitting near the lake with smoke billowing out of the chimney.

He didn’t see anyone outside, his eyes scanning around to make sure. Sam told him that she was more powerful than either could remember, so he should be cautious, but it was Wanda. She was the timid girl that sided with Steve all those years ago when the world was out for his blood.

He took a tentative step out from the tree line when all of a sudden he felt the air whip around him and he landed hard on his back in the middle of the clearing.

“What are you doing here?” someone asked in a low, thick accent, followed by a string of insults in what he knew was Sokovian.

He found her.

Well, more like she found him.

“Wanda---” The words died on his lips as he felt himself being lifted in the air again, and flung to the side.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, cursing under his breath as he rolled to his stomach to look at where he landed. He saw Wanda slightly to his right in a white t-shirt and jeans, her hands rotating, fingers moving slightly as they glowed red. He remembered very little of how her powers worked, but had no clue how to counter. He brought himself up to a knee, eyes never leaving the redhead.

“Wanda, I’m only here to talk,” he offered cautiously, “Sam sent me.”

“You work for the government,” she seethed, her eyes glowing fiercely as red energy curled at the top of her head like a crown.

“No, we don’t. Monica tipped Sam off what had happened in Jersey.”

She stopped for a moment, a look of what could be called grief fell over her face. Bucky was going to hate himself for doing this, but he rushed her, his hands wrapping around her wrists as he spun her around so her back was against his chest, arms crossed in front of her.

She let out a scream of anguish as she let out an array of energy knocking them both back, but his hold on her arms held. She fought him hard, making Bucky note what Steve had taught her or what was clearly something the Black Widow only knew. It made him smile slightly which made the witch even more irate. There was a crack after one blast, making Bucky turn to see a large pine tree come down, narrowly missing the cabin. With the slight distraction, Wanda’s head connected with his, the force not enough to hurt him but it made her cry out in pain.

“Wanda, please stop. I don’t want to hurt you,” he pleaded, fighting her each time she tried to raise her arms, until they were hovering above the ground, something he didn’t remember she could do before.

“Let me go James,” she gritted out, pain and anguish in her voice, her face etched with sorrow.

“No!” he yelled, pulling on her arms so she was up close to him, “despite what you think, I am here as a friend...an ally. Believe me, Wanda. Steve wouldn’t want you hurting.”

The red crown thing above her brow faltered slightly, their altitude started to descend. She wasn’t fighting against his grip anymore, the glow fading from her eyes as he felt the ground under his feet. He waited a moment longer as he watched her closely, wary that she might turn against him, but the tears welling up in her eyes told him otherwise. His hands let go of her wrists before pulling her into a tight embrace as she started to sob. It felt like hours as he held her, listening to her curse Steve and Clint for leaving her, losing Vision, and S.W.O.R.D. for weaponizing a version of her lost love.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, pulling back slightly to look at her, brows knitted together. “You trusted Steve, Clint. I’m just asking for the same. Sam and I will not let anything happen to you.”

“I’ve hurt too many people, James,” she sniffed, drawing back further from him, “I cannot ask you to jeopardize your new found freedom nor Sam’s image.”

“Wilson can handle himself, besides, he’s sort of like a Steve. Just don’t tell him I said that.” He gave her a crooked smile, bending over to brush the dirt and grass from his pants. “But it seems like you have grown a bit since I’ve seen you last. And you cut your hair.”

Wanda blushed and looked away from him for a moment, making him chuckle.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that you're more powerful. I’m just chalking the haircut as an emotional thing that most people do after something traumatic.” He pointed at his short hair.

“It looks good on you,” she replied softly, giving him a smile.

“Do you mind inviting me in so I can help you set your nose and stitch the gash on your forehead? Next time don’t headbutt a super soldier.”

#bbb21 #buckybarnesbingo2021 #whumptober2021 #no. 4 #do you trust me #fandom #marvel #fic #moodboard #angst #blood #injury #fighting #magic fighting #bucky barnes x wanda maximoff #winterwitch #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff

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heyitssmiller · 4 years

Text

Clandestine: Chapter Eleven

I... about 75% of this chapter was not in the outline, and I don’t really know what to do about that fact. This completely ran away from me, but that’s ok I guess.

Characters, as always, belong to the amazing @lumosinlove and a huge thanks again to @donttouchmycarrots for proofreading!! <3

Clandestine Masterlist

CW: hospitals, injury, brief mention of blood, medical drugs

Leo slept. A lot.

Logan knew this was normal; their nurse had reiterated it a few times now. When he did wake up, it was only for a few dazed, confused minutes before he was pulled back under again. The confusion ebbed the more time went on, the effects of anesthesia wearing off, but the dull sheen to his eyes remained. He could fight his way through a brief conversation with him or Finn, and then he was back to sleep. It was probably for the best, Logan told himself. Better than dealing with their present situation, at least.

Finn was curled up uncomfortably in the chair beside him, also sleeping. He normally looked peaceful when he was asleep – lips slightly parted, face relaxed, on his side or stomach with one hand usually shoved under his pillow. After about a week of sharing a hotel room and a bed, Logan knew these things. It wasn’t the same now. Granted, he was in a chair instead of a bed, but still. He was curled up somewhat in a ball, with the leg in a brace stretched out and immobile – an awkward position that almost made him look like a flamingo balancing on one leg. His shoulders were tense, even in sleep, and his jaw was clenched tight. A worry line was furrowed between his eyebrows, steadfastly refusing to smooth out. Logan brushed his knuckles faintly against the bruise on his cheek, plum against porcelain, and sighed. He knew he should be doing the same thing – sleeping, that is – but every time he closed his eyes… well. It wasn’t pretty. Besides, someone needed to keep an eye out. There was only so long the nurse could delay the GSW report.

It was only a matter of time before they were on the run again.

Regulus drifted in and out on occasion, checking in on them. He seemed to be on guard, constantly walking the perimeter of the hospital and keeping an eye out for familiar faces. It put Logan on edge and calmed him down at the simultaneously. He didn’t trust Regulus, not really, but he figured if he was going to sabotage them he would’ve done so already. He’d had ample opportunity, after all.

Logan glanced at the clock. They’d been here for just shy of twenty-four hours now. The sun was starting to rise again, not bringing any answers with it. Loops had been in contact, briefly. They’d received one text message that simply said “stay put” and radio silence after that. He just hoped they had a good plan. Even better if it was safe, too, but Logan wasn’t about to push their luck… if you could even call it that.

For now, this was ok. They were together, they were alive, and they were relatively safe, for now. In that moment, listening to the steady beeps of a monitor and muffled conversations of people in the hallway outside their door and the even breathing of his partners, he couldn’t ask for much more.

***

Nate saw the scowling, intimidating group of people in the lobby and knew they were in trouble.

He had just started today’s shift, still tired from the one the day before, and was in the process of saying his usual hello to the staff working the front desk when he saw them. There were three of them – at least two of which were over six feet tall, looming and muscular and intense. One had a scar traversing down one side of his face, healed but still a beacon that screamed “don’t mess with me”. The short, scary one was right.

He’d submitted the GSW report about ten minutes ago, and here they were.

Fuck.

Nate didn’t even say goodbye to the sweet lady working the desk that day, he just backed away slowly and tried to appear normal as he pushed past the doors. As soon as they closed he broke into a run, headed straight for room 308 and stopping by the nurse’s station for a split second to grab two prescriptions before he was off again. He was almost there when he crashed into someone as he rounded a corner, only avoiding hitting the ground by two arms that snaked out to steady him. He looked up to gray eyes and a vaguely familiar face.

“Sorry.” The guy said and let go of him, frowning when he saw what was no doubt a look of panic on Nate’s face. “You ok?”

He remembered this guy now. He was with the scary short guy and the other two. He wasn’t around much, but Nate had seen him a few times when he’d been making his rounds.

“They’re here.” He blurted, hoping that he didn’t need so say anymore.

He didn’t. in the blink of an eye he was leading the way to room 308 and throwing the door open, which Nate didn’t think was the best idea. He didn’t know what these people did for a living, but it was clearly dangerous. Barging in like that probably wasn’t a good move.

Sure enough, when Nate followed Gray Eyes into the room, the short one was on his feet and had pulled a gun from somewhere, aiming it at the two of them. Gray Eyes stuck his arm out and kept Nate from going any further until Short Angry One recognized them.

Nate used to think this was a relatively safe career path. Sure he might get puked on, yelled at, mentally and emotionally eviscerated by doctors and patients and family members alike on a regular basis, but he’d never felt like his life was in danger.

Maybe he should go into accounting. Just him in an office with a bunch of numbers. Or a museum curator, surrounded by ancient artifacts and not much else. Definitely not people pointing guns at you.

Both the redhead and the blond woke up at the disturbance, one sitting up in a flash and the other just blinking sleepily and frowning in concern. Before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, Gray Eyes blurted out, “They’re here.”

The EKG readings on the monitor spiked, and then it was a flurry of motion. Short Angry One cursed under his breath and pulled Gray Eyes and Nate into the room fully, closing the door behind them. The redhead started throwing the few things they had into his pockets – a phone, some other electronic device Nate couldn’t identify, an old lock, a pen. He shoved his shoes on, unsteady on his feet, and looked to the blond, who was still in a hospital gown and watching with wide eyes. All the color that had been slowly returning to his cheeks was now gone.

Nate steeled his resolve. His job was to save lives, damnit, and that’s what he was going to do.

He jumped into action, pushing Gray Eyes out of the way and unhooking his patient from the monitors before discontinuing the IV drip and pulling the IV out, stopping the bleeding with quick pressure from his hand. “There’s an employee exit down the hall that leads to the parking garage. You guys know how to hotwire a car, by any chance? I’d offer you mine but I don’t have one.”

“I can.” Glaring down at his sling, the blond muttered, “Well. Maybe can is the wrong word.”

Nate let up on the pressure, shrugged his thin jacket off, and helped him slide his good arm through the sleeve, throwing the other side around his shoulder gently. It wouldn’t do much to help, but it was better than nothing. “Can you show someone else how to do it?”

“Maybe.” He said, moving to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and frowning when Nate stopped him. “I can walk.”

Nate smiled. Typical. “That’s what they all say. I’m going to grab a wheelchair, anyways. You’ll be faster that way.” He looked at the others in the room and continued. “I’ll lead you to the exit, but I’m afraid that’s as far as I can take you. I’ll try to find these guys and get them off your trail as best I can.”

He shoved the two prescriptions he was so glad he’d filled last night at Ginger, trying to ignore the way all of them seemed to be staring at him. “Instructions are on the labels. He needs to finish all the antibiotics. All of them.” He didn’t have time to stress the importance of preventing antibiotic resistance, but he hoped they would take his word for it. “Let me go get-”

The door opened again and they all swiveled towards it. Ginger stepped between the blond and the door while Short One raised his gun again – but he didn’t shoot. In fact he just stared for a second, then lowered his gun with a smile.

“Loops.” He said, relieved, and – what?

The three men Nate had seen earlier were ushered into the room, the tallest one slapping the brunet on the shoulder, causing him to stumble as he flipped the safety of his gun back on and stashed it in the waistline of his pants.

The one in the front with caramel colored eyes looked between their group, one eyebrow arched. “Going somewhere? I thought I told you to stay put.”

Ginger laughed incredulously, shoulders slumping. “Holy shit, Loops. We thought you were someone else.”

Gray Eyes looked at Nate, exasperation clear in his gaze. “You told me they were here.”

Nate threw his arms up in defense. “You look at those guys and tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious.” He winced and looked at the newcomers, realizing that his words might be offensive. “Sorry.”

Neither of them seemed to take it to heart. The tall one just grinned and said, in a heavily-accented voice, “We still got it, eh, Nado?”

The one with the scar – Nado, apparently – just rolled his eyes and didn’t comment, but Nate could see one side of his mouth lifting into a smile. It softened his face, made him look more like a teddy bear than the scary, intimidating guy he’d seen in the lobby.

“We’ve got a car out back.” The one called Loops said, looking to the blond with gentle, understanding eyes. “You good to go?”

He nodded firmly, no room for second-guessing. “Let’s do this.”

Now, Nate didn’t exactly think it was a good idea to move a GSW patient out of a hospital only a day after getting shot, but – judging by how the others had reacted at the thought of people coming for them – it was safer for him to leave than to stay here. His brain, after all those years of medical classes and caffeine/anxiety induced all-nighters, was screaming in horror about complications and sepsis and bone fragments, but he didn’t voice them. He just reached for a pen and paper in his pocket. He scribbled his number down and handed it to his patient. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask, ok? I’d feel much better if you at least had a nurse with you, but this’ll have to do.”

He got a warm smile in response. “Thanks,” he said, voice and eyes serious. “For everything. Not many people would do what you did for us.”

Nate blinked. “I genuinely don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks?” He still didn’t know who exactly he was helping, but then again, he guessed it didn’t really matter either way. They seemed like good people dealing with a shitty situation, and that was a good enough motive for him. “I’m going to grab that wheelchair quickly and I’ll be right back.”

He should’ve known that, by the time he got back, they’d already be gone – leaving no trace except for the disheveled sheets on the bed, two chairs next to it instead of the standard one, and the still humming machines and monitors.

Nate let himself slump against the wheelchair, forearms resting against the handles.

“What the fuck,” he said, with feeling.

***

Sirius was behind the steering wheel of a very old service van, watching six of them pile into the back and Loops slide into the passenger’s seat. His eyes didn’t stray long from Regulus, though. If he’d had enough time, he would’ve tackled his younger brother in a hug. Unfortunately, they were on a bit of a tight schedule. “Petition to never have to break someone out of a hospital again.” He said wryly, putting the van into drive and searching for the exit to the maze that was this parking garage. All the while, he was sneaking glances in the rearview mirror, unable to help himself.

“Where do I sign?” Finn deadpanned from the back row, sandwiched between Logan and Leo. They looked so tired. Leo didn’t hesitate to twist in his seat a little so that he could lean into Finn’s chest and close his eyes, looking absolutely miserable. Finn shifted just slightly, pressing a barely-perceptible kiss to a bird’s nest of curls and relaxing back into his seat.

Huh.

That was… new.

But then again, was it? Sirius thought back to the past several months of this operation and found that he really wasn’t that surprised. But then there was Logan…

“Turn left here.” Remus said, pulling him out of the thoughts, calm and in control like usual. His lips turned up into a smile as he flicked his turn signal on. He could see them doing exactly this, when all the chaos was said and done. Taking a roadtrip, Sirius behind the wheel and Remus navigating, going wherever they felt like. No worries or missions, just the two of them and the black top below them. He shelved the daydreaming for later.

“Where are we going?”

Sirius’ eyes flew back to the mirror at his brother’s voice – the first time he’d head it un-obscured by a phone or earpiece in too long. He’d missed him. He’d fought so hard for him, to get him out of that mess and keep him safe, and here he was. They’d done it.

Was he a horrible person, for feeling as relieved as he did? He’d inadvertently put the Cubs through hell for mostly selfish reasons. Sure, he wanted to take the Snakes down, but that paled in comparison to the safety of his brother. He’d let the Snakes walk away scot-free if it meant Reg was safe.

He didn’t know what kind of person that made him – he was too afraid to speculate about it.

“My family has a cabin about two hours away,” Remus replied, balancing his phone with the navigation app against the center console so that Sirius could see it. “It’s empty right now, so it’s a perfect hideout until we figure out next steps.”

Finn was asleep now, too, head pillowed on Leo’s. Logan stared sightlessly out the window beside them, stonily silent. Sirius ached for him. They were kindred spirits, he and Logan. Stubborn, fierce, bleeding hearts who cared too much and shouldered more than their fair share of the responsibility when things went wrong.

And things had really gone wrong.

“What are the next steps?” Reg asked as they left the city and headed towards the interstate. “This isn’t the only backup we’ve got, right?”

“Sleep,” Kuny told Regulus, not unkindly, “had big couple of days, yes? Plan later.”

Reg looked at the tall Russian sitting next to him for a second, then sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

Sirius drove on in silence.

Two hours and eighteen minutes later, he was pulling up on a gravel driveway to a quaint, two-story cabin. The jostling of the gravel under their tires seemed to wake everyone up, according to the grumbles and yawns Sirius could hear from behind him as he finally put the van in park. The doors opened and they were all climbing out of the van, stretching stiff muscles and groaning. The ones with bags in the trunk went to unload while Remus fished his keys out of his pocket and headed for the front door, bounding up the last two steps to the porch. He was equal parts glad and upset that they were here. He was grateful that the Cubs were safe now and that this cabin was so far off the grid that the Snakes wouldn’t find them. But bringing a bunch of coworkers to the place he went to escape work stuff… jeez. Not that he didn’t like his coworkers, but sometimes he needed a break from it all. Plus this place belonged to his family. Being here with anyone but them just felt wrong.

Remus opened the door, instantly on guard when he saw the kitchen light was on. Whoever was in there must’ve heard the door because Remus could hear the refrigerator door close, then loud footsteps headed towards them. His hand drifted to his gun and he cautiously flicked the safety off.

A head peeked out from the kitchen. All-too-familiar eyes widened excitedly. “Re?”

The safety quickly went back on. “Jules?”

He wasn’t supposed to be there. Their trip wasn’t for another week-

Remus’ younger brother beamed and launched himself towards him, leaping into Remus’ arms when he got close enough with an excited shout.

“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it this trip!”

“What am I – what are you doing here?” Remus shot back, tensing up when he heard footsteps behind him. “Your trip is supposed to be next week!”

“School got cancelled because of all the snow.” Jules peered around Remus at the gathering group behind him. “Who are they?”

“Jules?” The familiar voice of their mother called from down the hall. “Who are you talking to, honey?”

Oh god, this was something straight out of Remus’ nightmares. How the fuck was he supposed to explain all this to his family? The rest of their agents were supposed to drive up here tomorrow with gear and supplies and weapons for their final stand against the Snakes. That… there was no way to explain that. At all.

Fuuuuuuck.

Hope Lupin stepped around the corner, startling when she saw the crowd on her doorstep. “Remus?”

“I’m so sorry, mom,” he blurted, the words coming out in an unfiltered rush. “I didn’t know you’d be up here or else I would’ve-”

“Oh, nonsense. We’re happy to have you and your… friends.” She said sweetly, voice raising into an almost-question at the end. Remus, flying blind, said the first thing that came to mind.

“They’re work friends. And there’s a few more coming tomorrow, if that’s ok.”

“What happened to him?” Jules interrupted, wide eyes trained on Leo, who smiled faintly.

“Shoulder surgery,” Leo said easily, taking Remus by surprise a little at how easily he responded with a textbook spy tactic: tell the truth, but only enough to not raise suspicion. He technically wasn’t lying, either. It was harder to get caught lying when you technically hadn’t.

It seemed like the rookie was no longer a rookie.

“It was recent, wasn’t it?” Hope asked, eyes sharp with observation as she ushered them all inside. When Leo looked at her a little distrustfully and both Logan and Finn stiffened beside him, she sent them all a soothing smile. “I’m a nurse, I can tell.”

“About a day and a half ago.” Leo let her lead them to a couch and sat down, answering Hope’s questions calmly now, seeming to know she could be trusted. When Remus looked around again, he noticed that Sirius and Regulus were both absent, no doubt having a much-needed talk. He was struck with a twinge of worry, but pushed it back. He shouldn’t interfere. They needed some time alone to sort through things. Sirius would talk to him about it if he felt like it. Nado and Kuny were trying to sneak their way into the kitchen, looking for whatever smelled so good in there. For spies, they weren’t very subtle.

“What kind of shoulder surgery?” Jules asked, trailing after their mom. “Re had one a few years ago, too!”

Remus winced and shot Leo an apologetic look for his over-inquisitive brother. “Not quite the same, Jules.”

“All he does is sleep now,” Finn said teasingly as he took a step back and stretched out his leg with only a slight wince. “My jacket has drool all over it from the car ride here.”

Leo shot Finn an unheated glare as he sat up and opened his mouth to shoot back a reply when all of a sudden he went pale as a sheet, eyes dazed. Everyone in the room froze, looking at him nervously.

Finn was kneeling in front of him in a flash, Logan already holding his hand too tightly from his spot beside him. “Leo?”

The blond squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into Logan heavily. “Hurts,” he managed to grit out while Logan wrapped an arm around his waist and held him close, combing his fingers through a riotous mess of curls. He locked gazes with Finn and saw a different kind of pain from Leo’s, but identical to Logan’s, reflected there as he watched helplessly.

Maybe they should’ve accepted the risks and stayed at the hospital. They’d be sitting ducks there, but at least it wouldn’t be this. Logan would take the uncomfortable chairs and the nurse who talked too much and the stress over the heavy weight pressed against him, the shaky, too-measured breaths, the soulful brown eyes that matched his own.

It felt like all the decisions he’d been making recently were the wrong ones. It would be nice to not put his partners through pain because of his poor decisions for once.

Hope was by their side then, holding out a glass of water and two pills. Logan hadn’t even noticed Finn set the prescriptions down on the entryway table. “I think it’s time to take these now.” Leo refused to move from his current spot, but he took the pills and followed them with a quick drink of water. A muffled “thank you” was murmured into the material of Logan’s shirt, quiet and a little tense.

Hope just smiled sympathetically. “You’re probably going to get really sleepy in the next thirty minutes or so,” she continued, giving the three of them a look. Like she knew something. “So if there’s any conversations that can’t wait until the morning…”

Loops came by his eerie observation skills naturally, it seemed.

Logan looked to Remus and the others, hoping that all the planning could wait until the morning. They were exhausted. Surely they’d be ok without them for a few hours.

“Go get some rest,” Loops said gently, motioning down the hallway. “There’s a guest bedroom down there, second door on the left. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Finn made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as they reached the bedroom, muttering about how he’d needed to use the restroom since they’d all piled into the van. Leo toed off his shoes while Logan hovered, unsure if he should offer to help or not, his heart still in his throat. Leo just sent him a weary, affectionate smile. It tugged viciously at Logan’s heart and made him want to pull his partner close and not let go. Ever.

“I’m ok, sweetheart.”

He could’ve cried at the relief of hearing that nickname again. “You sure?” He asked, just to be safe.

Leo’s face was inscrutable as he cautiously sat down on the bed. “If I keep telling myself that… eventually I’ll start to believe it, right?”

Logan didn’t have an answer to that, not at first. But he remembered the feeling from after missions that had gone belly-up, the few that he wasn’t sure he was going to make it out of. The disbelief that somehow, after all of that, he was still alive and ok. It felt like trying to find his way through a snowstorm when all he could see was blinding, overwhelming white.

He wasn’t about to let Leo navigate that without a guide.

He sat down next to Leo and grabbed his hand, moving down to the pulse-point at his wrist and feeling tendons flex and shift under his fingertips. It beat, steady and strong, when he pressed down lightly. He knew Leo could feel it, too.

“You’re here.” Logan said simply. It was a tactic he used on bad days, when everything got to be too much. That little pulse, a sign of life and resilience. The two of them shared that now, that resilience and refusal to die that flowed through their veins.

Leo stared at him, eyes so soft and a hue that Logan wanted to engrave into his memory. “Logan,” he said quietly, right as Finn flung the bathroom door open again. His mouth was in the process of opening to tell a joke when he saw the two of them and snapped it shut again with an audible click, unsure of what to do next.

Leo shared a look with Logan and a conversation passed between the two, silent but apparently crystal clear. Finn couldn’t quite tell if it was excitement or anxiety dancing in his stomach, but either way he wasn’t sure he liked the sensation.

He had a feeling he knew what was coming. They’d been tip-toeing around this conversation for too long now, and they’d finally reached the tipping point. However this conversation went, he knew their relationship would never be the same, and that scared him. There was comfort in things known and familiar, after all.

This felt like hanging out of a perfectly-good plane and not knowing if the parachute strapped to his back was going to work or not.

But everyone who took the jump said it was worth it, in the end. Finn desperately hoped they were right.

“I think we should talk.” Logan said quietly, patting the open spot on the bed next to him. The dreaded words. No one ever wanted to hear those words.

Finn made his way towards them, too afraid to make eye contact, and sat down gingerly. Feet firmly planted on the floor, one hand braced on the bed, tense and ready to get up and take flight if he felt like he needed to. “We’re finally going to have this conversation, huh?” he asked with a fake laugh that fell flat, finally glancing up. Looking at the two of them, side by side and seeming to just know each other in a way Finn felt like he didn’t, he wondered where he fit into all of this.

If he fit in at all.

God, he hoped he fit in.

“Look,” Leo started, voice steady and resolute like he was getting ready to rip off the proverbial bandaid. It did nothing to calm Finn down. “Logan and I talked a while ago, about us. And, um – well, we want to be together. All three of us.”

Finn blinked once, twice. The words weren’t exactly computing, not after spending so long telling himself that this would never happen, could never happen. “Oh.”

“You had to know,” Logan said, sounding confused. “You had to know how we felt. None of us were exactly subtle.”

“I… I hoped.” Finn managed to get out before he got distracted by Logan’s soft touch against the curve of his cheekbone, creating his own constellations out of the freckles there. Finn let his eyes close and focused on the point of contact. He had hoped, even if he’d tried to stamp it out most days. He’d hoped and he’d yearned and he’d ached, and now – finally, unbelievably – he might be getting exactly what he’d wanted. “I knew how the two of you felt about each other, I just… wasn’t sure where that left me.”

“Finn…” He heard the sheets rustle as Leo scooted closer and opened his eyes again.

“Can you blame me?” Finn let Leo hold his hand and slot their fingers together, a painfully delicate motion. He stared down at them, noticing faint green bruising from an IV line and deeper, purple discoloration from that one time Finn tried to catch himself before he hit the ground after a brutal punch. They matched, in a sick, twisted way.

But they were both healing – skin stitching itself slowly back together and aches fading little by little. There was a poignant symbolism there, Finn thought, musing over the words he needed to say. Talking about the doubts and the hurt and the confusion surrounding the three of them might be painful in the moment, but healing would always follow, even if it took a while.

He was thrilled that they wanted him, don’t get him wrong, but that didn’t have the ability to just wipe away the hurt of the past week. “You seemed happy together, just the two of you.” He thought of the coffee shop and watching them from his table with June. Or the hotel room the next day, the stolen glances and furtive touches. “I didn’t want to get in the way of that, not if I wasn’t wanted.”

One of the other two made a broken sound; Finn wasn’t sure who it was. The hand on his cheek moved to his chin and Logan ducked his head to meet Finn’s eyes again, fierce and sincere – a combination that encompassed the very core of the fighter.

“I’ve wanted you since that crazy New Year’s party.” He said with conviction and Finn laughed a little at the memories.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Logan challenged, signaling a change in the winds. Finn could see the storm brewing in those green eyes. “We were partners. Adding a relationship to the mix would only complicate things.”

“So what changed?” Finn let his frustration bleed through, ignoring Leo’s squeeze to his hand. “You’re saying two completely different things right now and it’s confusing as hell.”

Logan bit back, voice suddenly loud and harsh. “You think this is how I wanted to fall in love?”

Leo and Finn stared at him. No one had mentioned love. Not yet, at least. Logan seemed to recognize the intensity of his words and his shoulders slumped, but he didn’t take them back. Finn wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that or terrified because of it.

“It’s not supposed to be this hard, is it?” the brunet asked, voice a softer murmur. “Why couldn’t the three of us be normal and meet at, like, college or a coffee shop or something?”

Silence greeted him, heavy and suffocating.

“Because these are the cards we were dealt,” Leo said finally, looking between the two of them. “And yeah, it might be a shitty hand, but don’t you think it’d be worth it? After all that we’ve been through, choosing each other instead of letting the fear pull us apart?”

“Sounds like something out of a romance novel.”

Leo shrugged his good shoulder at Logan’s words, a conscientious effort to keep the other side of his body completely still. Finn ached a little at the sight. “Love isn’t easy, not for anyone. It’s a choice you make, day after day.” Blue eyes the color of a cloudless afternoon sky were calm and free of conflict when he looked at them again. “I’ve made my choice. What about you?”

Finn stared at him for what felt like forever, then blurted, “Did you rehearse that or something? What the fuck, Nutty.”

The resulting smile on Leo’s face was a welcomed reprieve from the earlier storm, placid and radiant. How was Finn supposed to do anything else but lean over, cup his cheeks in his hands, and press his lips against that smile?

Leo kissed a little distractedly, like he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do first. The hand not caught in a sling flitted from auburn hair to fist in his t-shirt, then migrated lower to wrap around Finn’s back, long fingers splayed against his spine. But his mouth was soft and sweet against Finn’s, returning his kisses happily, and the combination of the two were just so Leo that Finn’s stomach swooped and his heart flopped in his chest.

He pulled back for air, an unfortunate necessity, and took in the sight in front of him. Leo’s eyes were still closed and that smile still graced kiss-swollen lips as he swayed towards Finn, clearly wanting more. Finn smiled too, irrevocably charmed, and kissed his cheek, his jaw, that cute little indent in his chin, then the curve of his smile again. He could never, not in a hundred years, get enough of this.

And then Logan met his gaze from beside the blond, eyes fond and warm as he watched them and ran his fingers up and down Finn’s thigh, the motion raising goosebumps on Finn’s arms – the air dense and volatile around them like the instant before lightning struck. Finn needed to kiss him, too. To learn the difference between the way he kissed to keep up pretenses on a mission and the way he kissed when he meant it. Finn kept Leo close with a hand on his waist and tilted Logan’s head up to kiss him, deep and intense. It was thrilling and a little wild; so different from kissing Leo, but just as captivating. Always unpredictable, the kiss morphed from charged to surprisingly, achingly gentle – a thunderstorm melting into a comforting spring shower. Finn was reminded of shoving the couch up against the wall nearest to the window during storms as a kid, watching the raindrops track down the glass, and the sound of the world going silent save for the wind and the thunder and the rain hitting the roof like the pounding of drums – a symphony just for him to witness. He sighed against soft lips and sank into the kiss, listening for the intricacies of this new, unknown melody.

The rustle of clean sheets, a hitch in breath followed by a deep exhale, the steady beat of the old clock hung on the wall, a hum against his lips.

Then Leo was leaning in to kiss Finn’s pulse-point, firm enough to bruise and tender enough to make Finn’s eyelashes flutter. Finn canted his head to the side, stretching his neck to give Leo more skin to claim, and pulled Logan in again. A duet shifting to a trio and slotting perfectly into place, patching the gaps in the music that Finn didn’t even notice were there.

This was worth it. It had to be. As much as it would kill him – or any of them, really – to love them and then lose them, that would still be better than not loving them at all.

They’d wanted this for so long now, all of them. Even with all the stress and hurt and doubt, Finn couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. For fuck’s sake, he was kissing Logan. It wasn’t part of a mission. And Leo was still pressing kiss after kiss to his neck because he wanted to. They wanted each other.

Screw panicking about losing them. Finn was done missing things because he was worried about things that might not even happen. It wasn’t something he could just will away or turn off, of course, but he could actively make sure he was living in the current moment. And right then, the current moment was making out with his boys in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

He loved the current moment.

The kiss turned to simply smiling against Logan’s mouth, delirious with contentment, so Finn broke away and pulled Logan in for a hug, then gently maneuvered Leo to join them, making sure his wound was well out of the way. They stayed like that for a long time, relaxing in the closeness and adjusting to the newness of all of this. And even though it was new, it was already something they were quickly getting addicted to. The string connecting Finn’s heart to theirs cinched tighter and pulled sharply. For the first time, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. It was no longer a painful reminder of what he couldn’t have, it was an exhilarating sign that were all irreversibly intertwined, both in each other’s arms and in this crazy mess that was their lives.

Leo interrupted the moment with a yawn, blinking sleepily. Finn smiled a little at the sight – he almost felt like he was doing too much of that in the past few minutes, but sleepy Leo was simply adorable.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Logan urged. It would be a tight squeeze, the three of them in that bed, but now they could cuddle and press close without pretending it didn’t happen the next morning. Finn sighed happily at the thought and headed for the light switch. The light from the lamp on the bedside table illuminated his way back to his boys, all soft and stretched out next to each other under a pale comforter. It was a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of their current situation that Finn was all to eager to take advantage of.

He watched as Logan propped himself up on one arm to look down at Leo, hand trailing through that tuft of gray hair and then tugging on it playfully. They shared a smile before Logan leaned down the rest of the way to kiss him, assured and familiar and unrushed. They’d done this before. The knowledge didn’t tear at Finn’s heart like it would have a week ago, because now he knew that they felt the same way about him. And he was falling for them, too. Watching the two boys he was half in love with already so comfortable and loving with each other? How was Finn supposed to handle all the emotions bubbling over in his chest? He crawled into bed next to Logan and flicked the lamp off, settling the room into darkness.

Logan settled in to sleep facing Finn and with Leo’s reassuring warmth behind him. His eyes closed and time slowed, a blessed mercy. The events of tomorrow felt years away in that still, quiet moment. But there was something prodding at the back of Logan’s mind – some strange, uncomfortable feeling that he could quite place, until he realized that everything was too still, too quiet. His mind flashed to the litany of “what ifs” that had looped in his brain like a mantra back in that hospital room and he rolled over quickly, shuffling over until his head was pillowed on Leo’s chest, far away from the bandages.

Thump-thump.

Leo’s chest rose and fell under Logan’s head as he breathed and Logan let himself relax, reaching blindly behind him until he found Finn’s arm and flung it over himself, loosely intertwining their fingers over his chest. Finn moved in closer to press against his back and tangle their legs together. He sighed before going still again, breaths deep and even.

And Logan finally, finally let himself drift off to sleep.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #remus lupin #sirius black #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: hospital #cw: injuries #cw: mentions of blood #cw: medical drugs

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someonestolemyshoes · 3 years

Text

Come to Me

This is my submission for @levihan-drabbles Trope Tuesday - I jumped firmly on the bandwagon and went with prompt #4: Injured/hurt Levi & caring Hange. Juuuust eeked inside the max word count, but I’ll take it!

Warnings: This fic does contain some depictions of injury, nothing too graphic, but be aware if this is something that bothers you!

“Who was it this time?”

Hange expected no answer. As such, they were unsurprised at receiving nothing but a grunt and a hiss as they pressed an alcohol-soaked swab to the apple of Levi’s cheek, where the flesh, feverishly red and swollen now, had split like a burst seam.

Only rarely did Levi disclose the particulars of his adventures, and never when prompted. Hange knew better than to press. It wasn’t their role to ask questions, but the silence quickly grew oppressive when left unattended, and Hange would much rather listen to the sound of their own voice than the stifling quiet.

“Do they at least look worse off than you do?” They asked, tilting Levi’s bruised jaw to angle him better beneath the hanging bulb. Levi gave another noncommittal grunt, this one accompanied by a shrug of his shoulder and a grimace that tugged at his bust lip. The forming scab cracked open, and a thin trail of blood dripped towards his chin.

He was quiet, tonight. Moreso than usual. It wasn't in Levi’s nature to divulge too much of anything, but he could be vocal, in his own way. Hange’s poking and prodding was most often met with a grumbled ‘mind your damn business’ or ‘keep your nose out of my shit’ and occasionally, when Hange was in a particularly obnoxious mood, ‘quit jamming your finger into my ribcage’.

There was none of that now. Levi remained perplexingly silent while Hange disinfected the open wounds on his face and knuckles, cleaning smeared blood and palpating the joints, checking the swollen flesh for signs of damage they couldn't hope to fix in their parents' tool shed.

This had been their routine for a little while, a semi-regular occurrence since the first night Hange had found him crumpled over a bench in the park, sucking wet breaths through his teeth and trying in vain to stem the blood flow from a yawning gash on his arm. He had colourfully refused Hange’s offer of calling him an ambulance, and had vehemently denied that he needed to see a doctor, but he had eventually resigned himself to at least allowing Hange to help however they could with the first aid kit in their kitchen and what little medical knowledge they had absorbed from their mothers medical journals.

He had been a relative stranger to Hange, then. They’d seen him around sometimes, in school corridors between classes, or in the lunch hall, or around the back of the science block, where Hange had caught glimpses of him sparking up or stubbing out a cigarette, but besides these sporadic sightings, Hange's knowledge of Levi came only from whispered rumours.

The rumours, more than anything, made Hange worry that this was not a solitary incident.

“Just come to me,” Hange had said, as they'd finished wrapping the bandage around his wounds. “If you need help again. I kinda like my evening walks, and I think it’d ruin my night if I found you dead next time.”

In truth, Hange hadn’t expected him to take their offer seriously at all. Shocked as they were to see him turn up bloody and bruised at their window, they had stayed true to their word. Levi had tolerated their needling questions with surprising resilience, but eventually acquiesced to give some vague answers when Hange had suggested that he might be involved in something highly illegal.

“You’re in a gang,” they’d said.

“Like hell.”

“Selling drugs?”

“You think I’m stupid?”

“I got it—human trafficking."

“For fucks sake, four-eyes! I’m not—no, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Hange had accused him of every offense under the sun, but as it had turned out, there was nothing so terrible, nor so immoral or unlawful, about Levi’s affairs.

“I just get in fights, sometimes. I live in a rough neighbourhood. Tensions are high, people snap easy.”

“Do you? Snap easily, I mean.” Levi had given her a noncommittal shrug.

“Depends,” he had said. “Whether something’s worth snapping over.”

Hange had never asked what held that kind of wealth, for Levi. He had a deceptively calm aura about him whenever Hange saw him in passing; a little grumpy perhaps, with his thin eyes and drawn brows and pouted lips, but he never exuded the crackling energy of a bomb ready to explode.

Now, though, he seemed stormy. There was an intermittent twitch in his jaw where the muscle bunched and flexed. Despite Hange's close proximity, sitting with their knees tucked between his splayed legs, his gaze remained resolutely fixed somewhere over their shoulder. His freshly bandaged fists rested clenched atop his thighs. There was a pallor to his skin, the sickly hue of it exacerbated by the fluorescent glow from above them; the angle of the light deepened the shadows beneath his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks. He looked, if possible, more sullen than Hange had ever seen him.

Perhaps more tenderly than intended, Hange smoothed their thumb over the last steristrip on Levi's cheek. Something in the softness of the action must have caught his attention, for he drew his gaze towards Hange's face for the first time since turning up tonight. Hange tilted their head at him.

"Are you okay?"

Levi scoffed. "Do I look okay?"

No, Hange thought. You never do. "You've looked better."

"I'm fine."

Hange fought the urge to roll their eyes.

"Like pulling teeth," they mumbled. Levi shot them a look, something petulant and withering. Hange poked their tongue out at him, and winced when he aimed a kick at their ankle.

"Stop being difficult," Levi said. Hange looked at him incredulously, chest swelling and cheeks puffing with indignation. Levi was watching them calmly now, his brow quirked, and Hange felt the futility of arguing with him before they even began. Instead, they blew out a long, calming breath, and began packing the first aid supplies back into the kit.

Silence swelled between them, broken only by the crinkle of plastic as Hange, perhaps with more force than necessary, jammed spare wipes, swabs and bandages into place.

For once, Levi broke it.

"Oi, Hange."

Hange, not looking up from repacking their first aid kit, huffed loudly, and tried their best to ignore him. In the end, though, curiosity won out. "Mm?"

"If—" Levi began, then cut himself off with a harsh huff, and ticked his tongue against his teeth. "If anyone bothers you. Come to me, okay?"

Hange looked up at him, surprised. Levi wasn't looking at them, head turned away and eyes cast down towards the floor.

They weren't friends, exactly. Outside of their strange arrangement, they never really spoke to one another. Hange had, once or twice, caught Levi watching them with a curious expression on his face, but he never spoke to them in public. Hange was mostly at ease with the whole thing. There was an itch of intrigue they longed to scratch, but Levi's responsiveness to questioning had already made itself well known. Excluding their meeting in the park, they had never shared a single word with one another beyond the confines of the tool shed. Why, then, would Levi expect Hange to approach him anywhere else?

"Why would anyone bother me?" It was an earnest question, but Levi met their questioning gaze with a scowl. He opened his mouth with the kind of frustrated ferocity that preceded an argument, then closed it again, and huffed through his nose.

"I heard some things," he said. Hange said nothing, only blinked openly at him, and Levi was pressed to fill the silence. "Someone saying shit. About you."

Hange's brows lifted towards their hairline. "Oh?"

Levi scuffed the toe of his boot over the floor, face twisted in a sneer. Hange found it difficult to tell where his disgust was aimed; at whatever conversation he had overheard, or at himself for bringing it up.

Hange shuffled forward in their chair, one of their knees bumping against the inside of Levi's thigh. His eyes flickered down to the point of contact, then up to Hange's face. Hange nudged his leg harder.

"C'mon, you can't say that and not tell me."

When Levi showed no signs of budging, Hange sat up straighter and folded their arms over their chest. "At least tell me who."

Levi rolled his tongue between his cheeks, deliberating. His gaze flitted over Hange's face as though he was hoping he might find something reflected in it. Whether he found what he wanted Hange didn't know, but after a long moment, he slumped back in his chair and crossed his arms to match Hange, and said, with no absence of venom, "Zeke."

Ah. That at least explained some of Levi's seething. He and Zeke had a history. Hange was unclear on the details, and much of the story was based on rumours passed down in hushed whispers, morphing with each new retelling, but what was clear enough was that the two disliked one another. On Levi's part, it was all clenched fists and frosty glances, while Zeke carried himself with a mix of smug satisfaction and barely restrained resentment.

Still, Hange found it hard to believe that Zeke would have anything too terrible to say about them. Their communication had been inconsequential at best—he had an air of self importance that Hange found a little grating, and an overconfidence in his own opinions, but the handful of instances in which they'd spoken to one another hadn't been unpleasant. Hange told Levi so, and watched with interest as a hint of colour rose in his cheeks and his frown deepened.

"He's a creep," Levi said. Hange's brows arched even higher.

"What, did he threaten me?"

Levi said nothing.

"Is he gonna beat me up?" Still nothing. "Did he call me ugly? Say I smell bad?"

"You do smell bad."

"Did he perv on me?"

Levi's response was both fascinating and telling. He tensed visibly, spine snapping straight, fingers curling tight into his palms—even his thigh, still resting against Hange's knee, clenched hard. Hange's grin widened.

"Jackpot," they said. Levi curled his lip

"Well, I'm honoured by your chivalry, Levi. But you didn't have to pick a fight with him just because he thinks I'm hot. It's kinda flattering, you know?"

"He doesn't even mean it," Levi said harshly. "He's just saying it because I—" but Levi cut himself off again, sharply, and pressed his lips into a thin line. The forming scab tugged, threatening to tear anew.

"Because you what?"

But Levi had had enough. He stood quickly, barely avoiding the low hanging bulb, his chair scraping back with a clatter. The new angle of the light cast his nose and brow into deep shadow, and illuminated his cheeks with a bright glow—despite the washed out look the light gave his skin, Hange could see twin strips of pink on either cheek.

"Thanks," he said. Hange blinked owlishly up at him, their mouth open. They wanted to press him, demand he finish saying what he'd started—and perhaps they would have, perhaps this time, curiosity would win out, and Hange would succeed in wrestling an answer from him for once, but he didn't give them the chance.

He ducked around the bulb and moved to brush past Hange's chair and out the door. Beside them, he stuttered in step and paused; Hange thought—hoped—that perhaps he might be debating telling them the full story. He opened his mouth, and closed it again, opened, and snorted quietly to himself.

Then he raised a bandaged hand, and ruffled it into the messy hair atop Hange's head.

"Thanks," he said.

And before Hange could speak, could move, could do much of anything but stare ahead in shock, Levi had gone.

If, come the following morning, Hange was at all surprised to see the cuts and bruises colouring Zeke's face—a rather delightful collage of red and purple, black, and blue—they hid it very well.

Levi's self-satisfied smirk was far less subtle.

#levihan #screams in exhausted #my schedule the last two days has not been conducive to writing anything ghjhg #they're supposed to be in like high school but I do not have the brain power to make it more obvious #snk #my writing

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xenospacebabe · 3 years

Text

Broken Wings

Hawks drabble

A/N: So I imagine for some reason that regular doctors and surgeons are capable of treating Hawks to a fault. But when it comes to his wings, they’re a bit...lost?

Summary: After coping with treating injuries to his wings by himself, Hawks finds himself with a more serious injury than he can handle. He can’t open his wings, or fly. The pain is mind numbing. He finds himself breaking into an animal clinic for some help.

Warning: Broken bones. Mild language

HawksxReader

7am. The doors don’t open until 8:30, but you still had things to do from yesterday that weren’t even started. Clutching your steel tumblr full of coffee that’ll barely scratch the surface of your exhaustion, you stifled a yawn and crawled out of your car. Barely remembering to lock it. You always parked on the side of the building so as not to take up any spaces in front. The key missed the lock a few times before eventually sliding inside and turning to the side.

The moment you turned on the lights, a couple of dogs in the back already started barking, hungry for breakfast and ready to go home. Your veterinary clinic was modest in size, but it was always busy. It was your father’s practice before he retired and passed it down to you after finishing school. Now it was all yours. It was hard work, but your clients were loyal. Many of them have been around since the place opened almost 30 years ago. You were the vet that people would recommend to their friends who needed help and had struggles affording it. Your clinic was the one that everyone knew cared the most about patients rather than money. And it showed. While your profits were great, it wasn’t what you were concerned the most about.

After setting down your things in your office, you tied back your hair into a high ponytail and took a long drink of your “breakfast.” You looked at the white board on your wall, deciding which surgery from yesterday to start on first. Picking the cat spay, you headed towards the back to get started. Passing surgery and into the kennels, you found your patient and greeted her with a sweet voice and scratches on her cheeks.

“Good morning, Sadie. You ready, sweet girl? C’mon.” The cat whined tiredly as you scooped her into your arms to bring into the surgical room. But when you lifted your head and looked inside you screamed. Unfortunately, this spooked your cat and she bolted out of your arms to hide under the kennels.

“AH SHIT! Sadie! Sadie c’mere girl! Who are you?!” There sitting on your operating counter was a man. A shirtless man with enormous wings that nearly filled the small room. He was covered in decently serious lacerations and wounds that made the surface of his skin look like a blue, black, green, and purple water color canvas. He looked terrible with deep bags under his eyes. However, he looked at you through messy strands of hair that hung in his face with a tired but smug expression.

“Really? You don’t know who I am?” He said, his voice croaking out with a subtle groan of pain. Your eyes shifted from his, those golden pools that shined like the sun, to the massive crimson wings. They, too, looked to be in disarray. Feathers stuck out in random places, others crumpled, many painted in blood. However his left hung in a slightly abnormal manner.

“I’m sorry. You shocked me all of a sudden. You’re Hawks right? What are you doing here? How did you even get in? The doors were all locked.” As you finished your statement, a single red feather lifted in mid air and hovered, showing you its bent up quill. He picked the lock with the feather and locked it behind him.

“Sorry. I just-..mmgghh...I think it’s broken. And the clowns at the city hospital the commission would send me to aren’t capable of fixing it. I found you online, you do exotics, right? Birds and stuff?”

All the while he was explaining his situation, you were assessing his condition. The area that connected the wing to his back appeared incredibly swollen, and slightly out of place. Without thinking, you reached out to palpate the area causing him to immediately flinch and groan out loud.

“Sorry! Sorry. I’m used to my patients being-...well animals. But yes, I’m a small animal and exotics vet. There’s a couple birds I’ve been treating for a long time.” Now this time, as you were talking, Hawks had his eyes trained on you. He was listening to every word you spoke intently. “Some of them were my dad’s patients before he retired. Shows how old they can get.”

Hawks braced the cold steel of the table, crouching forward some. His skin seemed damp with sweat, the pain he was in must have been affecting his body temperature. You needed to act quickly if you were going to save his wing.

“Okay, so. I have to touch it. I need to get a couple xrays to see if we have any breaks and we’ll go from there. I don’t....all I have are sedatives for animals. Would that..?”

“It’s fine, ain’t no pain out there that I can’t handle.” He looked at you with a charming smirk, clearly flexing his pain threshold to impress you. Because he looked you up and down and liked what he saw. Even in those scrubs which were relatively form fitting but patterened in cartoon cats and dogs.

“I’m serious. This is really going to hurt. Are you-“

“I said I can handle it.” Hawks snapped, frustrated with the questions now. He just wanted the pain to stop. And besides, that cute look on your blushing face was too good to miss.

“Alright...well...first you need to help me find my cat that you scared off.”

“You mean this one?” Appearing in front of you held under the arms and the butt by a trio of feathers was your very angry, very sleepy cat. You sighed in relief and retrieved her into your arms. It took some settling to calm her down but you were a natural with all animals. It came so easily. She was comfortable in her kennel when you set her back inside and you felt your brain shift gears.

You first had to get your hands on the wing. Just to get a feel of what you were working with. You’d never seen such beautiful, red feathers before. Even though you saw parrots and other birds daily. These were just...breathtaking. But even the most beautiful wings didn’t stop the pain of broken bones. Hawks groaned behind tight lips when you gently palpated the swollen wing. Inside you felt the distinct break and slight crunchiness that accompanied it. The growling in his throat didn’t frighten you, after all, you dealt with aggressive animals day in and day out.

“Y-you almost finished there, Doc? Agghh...” He finally outwardly complained when you flexed his wing. Your hands were gentle but it was still nearly unbearable. Slowly and carefully, you folded his wing back down into its natural resting position.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I know it hurts. But thank you for holding still. Alright. Let’s do some xrays.”

After some struggling and repositioning, and many awkward brushes of hands and faces, you and Hawks were successful in taking some clear shots of what you determined was a broken wing. You didn’t notice his eyes on you as you explained it to him. The room was dark, illuminated only by the backlight box that made it possible to see the xray photos. But he was studying your face quite intently.

The space between your eyebrows crinkled a little when you would point to a specific spot on the xray in concentration. When you were quiet in thought, your tongue pressed against your cheek or you nibbled your bottom lip. The slope of your nose was accentuated by the pale shine of the light box to make it look like you had a cute button nose. Everything you were saying filled his ears but didn’t register as anything coherent. Eventually, you noticed.

“Hawks? Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Your voice brought him out of the trance he’d slipped into and he blinked rapidly to soothe his eyes. He hadn’t blinked once.

“Oh! Uh-...aheh...I’m fine. And please...call me Keigo.”

“Keigo?”

“Yeah, that’s my real name. Hawks is just my hero name. I can trust you, yeah?” He looked down at you with those eyes that you swore were glowing and swallowed harshly. Suddenly your throat was dry.

“R-right! I knew that. Keigo...so...like I said. The break is pretty clean. Luckily there’s no fragments or splinters that would make a problem.”

“So what can you do to fix me?” He lied, though, about being in pain. Broken bones were painful enough. But a broken bone that carried the heavy weight of his wing was absolutely agonizing. However, years of working as a pro hero conditioned him into hiding his pain from his enemies.

“Well, there isn’t a lot we can do. Other than immobilize the wing so the bone can heal back together.”

That got his attention.

“Immobilize? You mean I can’t-“

“Fly. Yeah. Not forever, but for a while. You’d have to come back every now and then for xrays so I can see how the healing is progressing. Given the size, I’d imagine...6 weeks?”

6 weeks? Of no flying? Hawks hadn’t spent that long out of the sky in so long that he wasn’t sure he remembered what it felt like to walk anywhere. You could see the panic in his eyes, beads of sweat formed on his neck and forehead. So you reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him. He froze, not sure of what to do.

“Sorry! Sorry.” You quickly withdrew your hand. “That’s a habit. I always try to comfort the parents of my patients when they get difficult news.”

“No no, it’s-...you just surprised me.” He reached for your hand and returned it to his shoulder which was still bare. You hadn’t even realized he hadn’t redressed after finishing the radiographs. Your palm rested on his shoulder, his skin was warm to the touch. Your thumb gently stroked the end of his collarbone as you often did to support your clients. Beneath your fingers you felt the impressive muscle he had, in spite of appearing relatively lean, the muscle tone of his torso was quite defined. You imagined it had to be in order for him to fight villains and hold himself aloft while flying.

“I know it’s a difficult thing to hear. Your wings take you everywhere, I’m sure. But this won’t last forever, okay?” Something about your voice was so soothing to his fried nerves. But you’d never know because of how cool and composed he made himself appear.

“You don’t mind?” Hawks felt his anxiety dissolve when he thought about getting to see you next. It was a strange feeling, but he knew he could trust you. Those pretty eyes of yours really spoke volumes.

“Of course not. Now let’s get you taped up and on your way. I’m sure you’re exhausted, no doubt whatever broke your wing has you worn out.”

“Heh you can say that again.” There it was, his suave and too-cool demeanor. But you didn’t mind it. You were sure it was just a front he was used to keeping up. After all, you were just a civilian and he couldn’t afford to let anyone know just how weak he was.

You managed to tape and place Hawks’ wing in a makeshift splint. He refused any medication but you could tell by the way he white knuckled the table that he was in pain. A majority of the time, your patients were under anesthesia when setting broken bones. So you had to be careful this time about how heavy handed you were. By the time you were finished, you had less than 10 minutes to get him out the door before your techs and kennel attendants showed up for work.

“Come see me in a week. We’ll take more xrays and make any adjustments if you need them. Try to keep the splint dry, and rest. I mean it, Hawks.”

“Alright, Doc. I’ll be a good little bird just for you.” The winged hero winked at you as he slipped out the back door. You felt your heart leap into your throat and cheeks burn up as a result. Just as he disappeared, you heard the sounds of your employees coming in and quickly closed the door and composed yourself.

“Morning, Doc!” One of them said as you appeared in the exam area. You smiled and waved, reaching into the pocket of your white coat with your other hand. Something was in there. You looked inside and saw red. A feather. Unbeknownst to you, Hawks had slipped one of his feathers into your pocket. You couldn’t fathom why, but you felt a strange sense of comfort when you ran the tip of your finger along the center spine. It quivered when you did so.

“Ungh...” In an alley a block away, Hawks had to brace a brick wall with one hand. His insides trembled as he sensed you touching his feather. Even he didn’t know why he left one with you. But the thought of parting made him remarkably...sad?

“Get it together, Keigo...” He muttered to himself, shaking his head and continuing back home. It would be a long 6 weeks out of the sky, but at least he’d be able to see you.

A/N: This was longer than I anticipated omg. Does anyone think I should continue?

#winged hero hawks #hawks drabble #keigo takami #bnha keigo #hawks x reader #veterinary #writing #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero

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