#healer reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daylite-writes · 4 months

Text

A Healer’s Blunt Teeth - Yan!Capitano x Healer!Reader

In your homeland, the nation of war, healers are highly valued, highly sought after. This, however, does not grant them autonomy. Traded, won, and bought. That has been your life thus far. Now though, you’ve fallen into the possession of a man you know will never lose a battle.

cw: societal-typical captivity, Yandere-esc behavior, background death, non consensual touching/kissing, sharing a bed (romantic, but not sexual), consensual relationship, brief use of the word ‘master’ until Capitano shuts that down, time skip.

2.8k words

~~~

The sun was relentless, on the battlefield. Glaring down from the horizon, it was blindingly bright. It’s heat was so palpable it warped the rocky terrain around you. Your face, back, legs, all were drenched in sweat. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst part was the smell of the fallen bandits cooking under it.

You choked back a sob as another waft of the scent passed you. Rotting, seared. The battle was over, but didn’t dare to move from the spot behind a jagged rock you’d taken. Quietly, you cursed to yourself, “stupid, fucking—stupid. Gods, archons, fucking, idiotic—”

Idiotic team leader, idiotic fucking team. The scouts were supposed to make sure backup wasn’t within range, the talkers were supposed to intimidate them into to fork over their supplies, and the front liners were supposed to not fucking die should a altercation begin.

Apparently none of them did their job, because the moment swords were drawn, one of them sent a signal to a larger group of Fatui a ways back—the moment their backup arrived marked the start of the bloodshed.

They cut through your group with far too much ease. Trained. You didn’t dare peek out from your hiding place, but you listened to the ‘shirk, shirk, shirk’ as each bandit was double-tapped.

You bit your bottom lip hard, hard enough to draw blood, as footstepped creeped closer.

As a healer, you’d never been afraid of defeat. Even ones that had the entirety of the group you were with dead. But those defeats came at the hands of other Natlan people. Those were people who would spare the healer, finding better uses for you than death. The Fatui? No such promise. Surely they had their own, and in turn, you held no use.

The air was tense, silent, except for your stifled breathing and the click of the rifle as you struggled to load it. You swore internally, fumbling with the damned thing, before you heard a click.

You froze. The click was not from your gun.

“Drop it.” The Fatuus barked. You did so, weapon clattering on the ground, raising your hands in surrender, you kept your head dipped low. Unsteady breaths spilled from your lips.

“Please.” You begged, you weren’t a threat, you prayed they knew that.

One grabbed you, roughly, forcing you to stumble along as you were dragged into the blood smeared slaughter grounds. The sun, glaring in your eyes, made it hard to see. Eventually, the Fatuus shoved you, making you fall to yours knees—which sunk a little into the blood soaked mud under me.

The Fatuus said something, which you didn’t hear between your heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat pounding in your ears. It wasn’t for you—too formal and professional. You lifted your head—

The largest man you’d ever seen. Well, probably a man. Towering, with a helmet that looked like a shark’s metal maw shrouding his face in darkness. The blood pounding in your ears intensified. He was looking at you—he was looking at you—

You dropped your head down immediately, terrified of the man you’d been tossed before. Their leader, undoubtedly. It was a short lived reprice from his fearsome figure, as he soon grabbed your chin, dragging you to your feet and forcing your eyes to meet his void—

“You aren’t a bandit. You’re too scrawny, not toned, and you can’t load a rifle. You are for some sort of utility.” He tilted his head to look down over your body, before his eyes locked onto yours again. “Am I correct?”

“Y-yes—yes sir.” Your chest shook with every heavy breath. “I-I’m their healer.”

“Hm.” He said simply. The hand clasped around your throat and jaw twisted slightly, moving your head and body as he pleased. You let slip a sharp whimper, but didn’t dare say a word. He looked over you, appraising you like one would a horse or a fine good. Trying to determine your value.

“In the Natlan wilds, healers are usually bought, traded around between groups.” He lifted your head a little higher exposing your neck. What was he looking for? “Or taken, when a group died to another. Just one thing from which a victor is entitled to take. Hm. I wonder where you’ve been, healer.”

Too many places. From the moment you showed an innate ability for healing. Traded, won, bought off, defected to. Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you as you met his eyes.

His mask hid all but the slightest trace of blue eyes and a sharp, but you swore you could see the glint of sharp teeth as he dropped out, letting you collapse onto your knees in the dirt.

He turned to his soldiers, with a booming voice yelled; “Kill any left alive, take all supplies of theirs you find.”

Then, he turned back to you, voice quieter, but pleased. You hadn’t moved an inch from where he dropped you.

“What do you think of the cold?”

~~~

Capitano was your new boss. Not the Fatui—Capitano specifically.

You stayed in his tent during the day, and slept in the corner at night. It wasn’t like you were told to sit there, but you’d rather not risk punishment for asking for a bed. You weren’t sure how cruel the Fatui were, how cruel he was.

Besides, it was familiar. Sleeping at the foot of your latest warlord. A decoration when you were not working. Like a fancy vase, or an exotic fur blanket.

He came back to the tent one night, the troops reeling from a small battle. You didn’t know what against, only that he took a seat on the side of his bed, undoing his armor, and turning to you, silently beckoning. You approached, sitting beside him on the bed, beginning to heal his wounds.

You wondered how many had seen under the armor. He was strong, toned, and monstrous. Scars etched out of his back held veiny black scars that had to be from the void, his teeth, at times, seemed shinier than his blades and twice as sharp. His eyes…

Oh his eyes.

There was nothing wrong with them. Not visually, but…

You shuddered as you felt them on you again, your muscles threatening to lock up. Heal, right, you needed to heal him. Don’t disobey, don’t refuse, don’t show fear.

“Calm down.” He commanded, and you suddenly realized how your limbs were shaking.

“Apologies, master.” You took a small breath, forcing your hands to move steadier across his ribs. A gash, probably from some rifthounds. They’d been hunting the abyss deeper into the mountains.

“Hm.” He said simply.

He never showed any pain as you fixed him, despite healing—against most people’s assumptions—being no pleasurable experience. You wondered if he even staggered when the beast cut through flesh. You wondered how many he killed before one landed the lucky shot.

Scars faded, having curled up into themselves until they dissapeared, you pulled your hands back. You were on his bed, on your knees as he sat on the edge, legs planted on the floor. You were practically under his arm, in order to gain access to his ribs, but you didn’t move away, and wouldn’t. Not until he dissmissed you.

“Done?” He asked, voice even. Gods, did he even feel any of it?

“Yes, master.”

“Good.” He inclined his head slightly. A thanks. You, nervously, lips parted slightly, looked up to him, taking a second to glance at his maskless face. Was… was he going to dismiss you, or?

He met your gaze, and this time you could not stop your limbs from locking up. You felt like a rabbit, with the eyes of a wolf locked onto you.

He lifted a hand, his fingertips abyssal, dipped in black ink. Gently, he cupped your cheek. The little gasp you gave was one of fear, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Once again, he considered you, tilting and moving your head as he liked. “You’ve done well.”

If you could speak, you’d thank him. Call him master as the others you’ve served prefer, maybe bow your head. But no. Something in you, needed desperately, to remain very, very, still.

“You’ve served me well, for weeks, now. Not a whisper of what I look like among my men, not a peep of disobeyal from you. You haven’t so much as asked for a bed. I must wonder what has happened for you to be so… tamed.”

You said nothing.

“I think I could take you to the most beautiful place in Teyvat, and you wouldn’t dare ask to step outside my tent, instead awaiting my own permission. Hm.”

He tilted you head to the side, exposing your neck. This time, you began to shake. You’ve seen his teeth at times, they could tear your head free from your body—

“Captain?” You pleaded.

“Shhh. I’m not hurting you.” He whispered, you felt it more than you heard it, his hot breath across your skin. “Remain good and you can sleep in my bed tonight.”

He… kissed you. Your brain almost short circuited when his lips dipped down to your neck. It was gentle, even when sharp canines nicked your skin.

Slowly, your body relaxed, and he pulled you closer, he kissed your neck, like a lover. A reverent one. Before you knew it, you were sitting on his thigh, whimpering as he placed a hickey high on your neck, one not able to be hidden. Between your beating heart and his… affection, he stopped for mere moments, not to breath or take respite, but instead to murmur soft nothings, “good,” “thank you,” “my healer,”, before he planted another kiss somewhere new.

His attention continued on for far too long, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself, or where this was going.

“Master…” you said, panting, it took everything in you to not bury your head in his shoulder and bite your lip. You felt deeply embarrassed. This wasn’t the first time a member of the people you’d been claimed by paid… special attention to you. But it was

“Captain. You will call me captain.”

“Captain.” You forced out, softly. “Can…”

He waited, not kissing your skin as you figured out how to work your tongue. It would better, right? To be with him than against. A healer alone is doomed. You thought for a moment, before quietly speaking.

“Can I kiss you too?”

“Yes.” He growled out, far too fast. A little aggressive, but, okay—you lowered your head, planting your own kiss on his neck, as gently as you could.

He groaned a bit, the vibrations of it tangible against your lips. “Bite down.”

For a moment, your brain short circuited. What?

“Bite.”

Well then. Slowly, nervously, you sank your teeth into his skin.

His hand cupped the back of your head—archons you swore there were claws on them—and pressed your head a bit further down, forcing you to bite down harder.

The sound that forced its way from his throat was guttural, not quite a growl, but deeply animalistic and satisfied.

“Good… healer. Good.” He huffed out. The hand left the back of your head, and you took that as permission to release the crux of his neck from your teeth.

You couldn’t help but be shocked at the sight you left. A perfect set of teeth marks against his neck, little beads of blood dotting it. If you hadn’t seen it yourself a few times, you wouldn’t be sure he could bleed. At least, bleed red. He held himself like a god among men, and his soldiers seemed to put him on a similar pedistool.

Your mind circled back to his previous praise. Good. You did well, he was happy with you. You wondered if you would be allowed to sleep in his bed tonight. You wondered if he’d let you refuse.

Realizing he’d been silent for a time, you glanced at him, cold, icy eyes glittering behind lax eyelids. He was watching you.

Your chest was heaving despite the little effort it took, but his breathing was strangely calm, rhythmic.

You felt a hand run through your hair, you closed your eyes and bit your lip.

“It’s late. Sleep in my bed, should you like.” He said simply, and you opened your eyes. His hand was still in your hair, and you’d never felt so calm in his presence.

“Alright.” You spoke, the sound barely a breath.

You slept in his bed that night, his arm around your midsection. You felt like the woman in a painting with a name you forgot. She lounged within a lion's den, resting her head against one’s chest, sleeping beside an apex predator.

~~~

Capitano’s time in Natlan was coming to a close. And in turn, yours was as well.

You laid lazily on the strategy table, your head and chest slumped forward into your arms. Under you, a map of Teyvat, with various pins and marks. The path home. Capitano had been pouring over it even after his generals left, marking it every once in a while, or muttering to himself. You’d been waiting for him to finish for hours now.

For all his animalisticicity, his libido was strangely low. Even after months of his physical attention—kisses, bites, sharing a bed—it took you initiating for him to grant you anything. You were happy for this, you supposed. But it did make him difficult to manipulate, unlike many other men who’d oblige after you puffed out your cleavage and bit your lip.

So, you had to resort to other methods.

“Captain… I’m tired.”

“Sleep then. I’ll carry you back when I finish.” He didn’t look at you.

“At the table? Darling…”

“You were the one that wanted to come to this meeting.”

“Yes, the meeting. Not the… what is this? Were the plans your generals made not sufficient?”

“I’m merely going over them again.”

“Alright.” You weren’t getting what you wanted. Not yet. “Perhaps I should walk back to the tent.”

His body shifted slightly, an action that on him, was like the moving of glaciers, heavy and lumbering. “You stay by me.”

It was a reminder, a weighty one. You did not have to be his lover, but you were his healer, taken by right of combat. The only right that mattered in Natlan. He held dominion over you either way.

You did not have to be his lover, but god was life easier that way.

“Sorry.” You sunk back into your arms, feigning just enough sadness and remorse to make him uncomfortable, even if he was visibly still as a mountain.

“You know you are not allowed to move through the camp alone.”

“I do. I just forgot, the last few chieftains I served didn’t bother overseeing my location or sleeping arrangements.” You lied. They did. Very closely in fact. You were a goddamn healer by blood, very expensive in the country of war. You slept at their feet or in their beds, sometimes in chains. But such facts did not serve you in that moment. “This… supervision is new to me.”

He sighed, setting down his quill. “I suppose this is done. We can return to the tent.” He moved around the table, coming up behind your chair before sweeping you into his arms. Hook. Line. Sinker.

“My legs function, Capitano. I assure you.”

“They did not seem to this morning.”

“I’m a healer, I can deal with some strained muscles.” You bantered back.

“Oh, so me bringing you breakfast was simply a ploy of yours?”

“Of course it was, surely you realized.” You grinned into his shoulder, taunting. “And healing takes time, imagine what the soldiers would say seeing me struggle to walk, coming out from your tent?”

“Hm.”

“Anyways, I said I could walk.”

“I wonder, do you ever accept the fact you may not get what you want? Or must you claw at me until I indulge you?”

“With walking?” You grinned, finding a stance you could sink your teeth into. “Are you afraid I may run?”

“Do you think you could escape?” Capitano met your question with one of his own.

You hummed, eyes closed with a soft smile, not bothering to indulge him until he answered you first.

Your eyes shot open as the warm metal of his gauntlet tilted your head up by the chin. He looked over your neck, scarred with the symbols of his love, and gave a content, “Hm. No.”

You rolled your eyes, a little insulted. “I could escape if I liked.”

“Of course, my healer.”

You pouted as he let go of you, your face falling down into his shoulder again.

“Fear not though, my healer.” His voice had a rasping, growling edge to it, making your body shiver in the Natlan heat. “There will never be anything to run from.”

~~~~~

Just a little thing! Hope y’all liked it <3

#genshin fanfic #yandere genshin impact #yandere capitano #yandere capitano x reader #healer reader #yandere genshin

284 notes · View notes

nyctophicbtch · 1 year

Text

The King's Healer - Nikolai Lantsov

Summary: As Nikolai’s healer, neither of you dared making a move, and you were determined in refusing Zoya’s proposal of marriage to secure the throne. That is, until Ravka’s king decided to stumble into your room all bloodied in the most ungodly hour of the night.

Warnings: King of Scars spoilers, slight angst, mentions of blood

Word Count: 2,500

The private meetings in the war room were your least favorite part of the day, only because you’d have to spend a good amount of time listening to Zoya mention all the terrible things that had been happening recently, as if you everyone wasn’t already stressing about it enough.

The meeting had always been occasionally filled with witty retorts between the king and his general, along with their three trusted grisha. And if that hadn’t been irritating enough to Nikolai, Zoya had been persistent in securing Ravka’s throne through marriage.

“This is the perfect opportunity for you to find a bride.”

“Absolutely not,” Nikolai replied immediately.

“Fine. If you won’t bother to listen to the long list I have then just marry her,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows expectantly at you as if she’d already expected Nikolai to refuse the idea of marriage.

You shot Zoya a pointed look. It was late at night and you wanted nothing more than to jump into the soft mattress of your bed.

“Having a grisha on the throne is not the most ideal measure.”

“Alina Starkov was grisha, yet no one was against it.”

“She was the sun summoner; she was a saint. That was different,” you argued, hesitantly glancing at Nikolai to see his face masked as ever whilst watching your exchange with his general, the same emotionless face he’d wear in council and war meetings displayed.

“Better than a stranger to his claws.”

“No, Zoya.” Your tone held certainty to it, concluding the conversation to an end.

There was no marrying Nikolai. He would have to find someone of a high rank lovesick enough to hopefully ignore the monster he becomes at night. And then you would go back to becoming his healer and no more.

It disgusted you to admit how much the thought pained you. After all those years of tending to Nikolai, as both the prince and privateer, and now as your king, you had the most access to him. His days as the prince and privateer weren’t the most subtle when it came to you either, shamelessly flirting with you any chance he got.

“The next try will be more compelling,” Zoya stated, turning to leave through the doors.

Genya stood still, eyes on the ground, and David looked expectantly at Nikolai.

A look passed between Genya and her king as she brought herself back from whatever thought she had been in, and Nikolai took that as his cue to say something.

“Yes, you are dismissed, David.”

He slightly bowed in respect, ushering Genya out of the war room and making sure to close the doors behind him; and as soon as you heard the hefty click of the doors closing, you turned to Nikolai who already had his eyes on you from across the room, a glint of suggestion in them.

“Nikolai, no.”

“Marriage wouldn’t be so bad, you know.” As soon as the words left his mouth, you caught a glimpse of the young prince before you, his solemn king facade fading. It was in rare moments like this with you he’d find himself at ease, not having to strategize every facial expression or word that comes out of his pretty mouth.

It was always easy with you. You were by his side for as long as he could remember. Every wound and every injury he had to deal with as Sturmhond and as prince Nikolai, you were there to wipe them all away, making sure to follow his request of taking your sweet time to avoid any scars. But the both of you knew that was never his only intention though, only keeping you longer to endure his derisive flirting.

“Yes it would be,” you insisted as Nikolai strided his way to you from the far corner of the table. “The least that Ravka needs right now is a grisha as their queen, let alone a healer. The country’s vulnerable, it needs someone of high power, better yet a strong alliance for our benefit. I will do no good for the throne except securing it. What then? It doesn’t solve the crisis our country is in. It will do you better to marry someone with more political benefits and-”

And his lips were on yours, silencing the lecture he had already gotten plenty of times, more so enough to sink into his head. Yet he could care less. Nikolai was not going to marry off some stranger he didn’t know. He wanted you as his queen and he was going to make that damn well known to you.

His kiss grew more fervent every passing second, a hand coming up to hold your face close to his and the other wrapping around you as he slowly guided you backwards until you felt the table against you.

“Nik- '' you managed to breathe out as he broke apart to trail his lips down your neck, hands feeling at your sides.

Nikolai pulled back slightly, just enough for you to see his breathless state and the haze he had in his eyes as he stared you down through hooded lids. Even in the dim light, you could make out how his pupils had dilated, the sharp edges of his face illuminated by a soft glow.

“Marry me.” His words were a whisper against your lips.

You could care less about the lecture you wanted to give him right now, and instead engrossed yourself in the feel of his lips against yours once more, fingers urgently tugging at his hair in an attempt to pull him closer than he already was. At this point, you were sitting atop of the table with his hands caging on either side of you and not caring that you were knocking the miniatures forming Ravka’s battle plans.

You could already feel his small grin of amusement starting to form against your lips as he felt frustration coarse through every bone in your body.

Nikolai had gained a liking in seeing you irked towards him during his privateer times. Every glare you sent his way only increased his satisfaction, knowing he could affect you in ways no one else could.

“You are not going to woo me into securing the throne,” you said breathlessly after gently pushing him away.

“I’m not wooing you to secure the throne. I’m doing it for personal selfish reasons.”

“We can’t keep doing this, Nikolai.”

“So marry me,” he reasoned, a hint of plea edged onto his voice. “No more hiding and holding back; no more uncertainty.”

You shook your head, pushing him further away to give you space to stand and walk out without uttering another word. And Nikolai let you. He never stopped you or pushed the boundaries he came to learn throughout the years.

Genya could’ve been more subtle with her anticipation.

“I’m not marrying Nikolai, Genya.”

“You say that as if it’s more of a disadvantage than it is beneficial.”

“The only good it will do is secure the throne.”

“Better than nothing.” Genya shrugged, opening the doors to your room. “If he were to marry anyone else it could backfire once the monster is unleashed.”

“Not if they're enticed enough. Shouldn’t be too difficult with Nikolai’s natural charm.”

The tailor kept silent bidding you a silent goodbye as you walked into your room.

“He’d never want harm to come your way, you know. Don’t be afraid,” you heard her softly speak before closing the doors.

You were afraid.

You weren’t sure if you were ready to face what lied ahead if you said yes to his many attempts of proposal, afraid of the change that would come with it. After the numerous changes that happened all at once with the Darkling, the thought of ruining what you once had with Nikolai terrified you.

Right now, you wanted nothing more than to shove all thoughts away in deep slumber. Unfortunately for you, Nikolai was not going to allow that, seeming as how the loud noise of the doors opening caught your attention as he staggered into your room.

“I’m not hearing any of it Ni-” You paused once your gaze landed on his bloodied form, red seeping through the side of his clothes.

“Saints, Nikolai.” You quickly rushed to his side before his legs could give out and tore open his shirt. “What happened?”

“So eager to undress me now are we?” He managed to cast a weak grin when you guided him to the floor.

Even bleeding to death he still managed to flirt with you.

It reminded you of the countless times Sturmhond would burst into your room on the Volkvolny with blood staining his shirt, in dire need of your abilities before he bled to death. Most times, it ranged from broken and bruised to a tiny cut on his lips.

Does it have to be your hands? Or can you heal through a kiss? he would ask every time and your response would always be a jab to his other wounds, causing him to recoil in pain and slap your hand away.

“Shh. Stay still. The more you move the more blood you’ll lose.”

“Always so demanding when I’m on the brink of death,” he protested.

You ignored the never ending comments he threw at you and worked on the huge gash on his side, trying to keep him from losing any more blood than he already had managed to lose on his own.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” you ordered when you noticed his eyelids drooping.

“How could I when all I can see is you- Ow,” Nikolai winced when you sealed a small part of his wound, hands going limp at his sides.

“Apologies, moi tsar.” It didn’t sound the slightest bit sincere.

For the next hour you continued working on Nikolai, nudging him awake every time he’d go silent and deafening comments stopped flowing out of his mouth. He did end up falling unconscious after a while and although you’d never admit it, you were surprised that he could stay awake for so long in his terrible state. Maybe it was because he had gotten used to being threatened to stay awake when you fix him up, or perhaps he was just that keen on annoying you as you struggled to save his life.

“You beef-witted idiot,” you whispered as you gently laid him down on your bed and pulled the covers over him. You couldn’t recall when you gave in to your tiredness and closed your eyes, but when you found your eyes fluttering open to the sunlight shining through your windows, you knew Zoya would be demanding answers.

It hadn’t even been a second after you regained your senses that you jumped upright, and when you found Nikolai still soundlessly asleep beside you, you allowed yourself to relax and lay back down.

Your fingers acted on their own accord, threading through his soft golden locks as you eyed his sunlit features. Even disheveled he managed to look like he was crafted by the saints himself. His shirt was torn open in the middle and you were sure Nikolai wasn’t going to let that go so easily even if it was a means to save his life. He had a tiny cut on his forehead that managed to go unnoticed during the night, given how preoccupied you were with the bigger task at hand.

Your fingers left his hair to hover above the cut, sealing it without leaving a trace.

“Well, don't stop now.” The sound of his voice brought some assurance to you that you hadn’t failed him yet

“Morning,” you hummed as he adjusted his eyes to the light.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind waking up like this every morning.” Nikolai shifted his body and winced at the soreness he felt, wrapping an arm to snuggle against you nevertheless.

“If another proposal is coming, I swear to the saints, Nikolai-”

“I love you.” Nikolai sensed the way your body tensed at his confession. He rubbed gentle motions on your bare arm with his thumb in an attempt to soothe you. “I love you with every fiber of my being and I’m sorry I hadn’t said it sooner.”

This time he looked at you with so much intensity you weren’t sure whether you wanted to hit him in the head or burst into tears for finally saying it out loud.

“You don’t have to marry me if you don’t want to. But I’ll never forgive myself if I end up hurting you by having you watch me learn to love someone else. If that is even possible.”

Your hand reached out to his jaw and Nikolai closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of your hands gently cradling his face. This time, the kiss that came was gentle and filled with longing.

Yes, you were afraid of what was to come, but somehow, Nikolai and his stupid charm managed to drown those fears.

“Yes,” you mumbled against his lips.

“What?” He slowly pulled away, allowing you to get a glimpse of his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’ll marry you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The grin that found its way to his face was even more blinding than the morning sunlight that had woken you up and you found yourself mimicking his beaming expression, until his lips curled suggestively and you dread the comment that was going to come with it.

“Don’t forget, we still need an heir to properly secure the throne,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, earning a push to his wounded side.

“Ow. Well don’t re-open it.”

“I just might and seal it back again if you keep this going on.”

Before Nikolai could give one of his snarky responses, the door flew open to reveal Zoya marching in with Genya trailing behind her.

“He’s missing-” Zoya’s words got caught in her throat as she saw Nikolai looking cozy beside you.

“You were supposed to stay drugged,” she deadpanned. “Care to explain what happened?”

The trail of dried up blood along the hallway and on your floor was certainly one of the great sources for questions. Innumerable things had happened the past few hours to an extent where you had forgotten to question how Nikolai had ended up in such a concerning state in the first place.

“Wasn’t drugged enough. Transformed back mid-air and managed to land in the armory. Luckily, I managed to get here before I bled to death. No, I don’t think I flew far off and stayed inside the palace walls. Oh, and we’re engaged.”

The rare occurance of Nikolai catching Zoya off guard was an amusing sight to witness. Whatever words she was expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. But she was never one to let any emotion other than discontent display on her face for too long.

“Get dressed. War room in fifteen minutes.”

“I thought you were the king,” you bemused once Zoya was out of earshot.

“And yet Baghra managed to scare the entire royal family.”

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #female reader #sturmhond #shadow and bone #grishaverse #king of scars #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #drabble #headcanon #fluff #grisha reader #healer reader #onsehot

326 notes · View notes

littlekohai77 · 11 months

Note

Hello I have an idea that suddenly came into mind.

So you know like how Vator have the scar on his face cuz of Kayden. What if reader have an ability like bungou stray dogs Akiko Yosano? What would happen if she managed to heal the scar(he probably traumatized but it's worth it lol). Anyways have a great day😀

Thou shalt not perish

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 :)

𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 😅 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 :)

𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

𝕍𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

🆆🅰🆁🅽🅸🅽🅶🆂: mentions of blood, injury, 𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚎, Sabisim? 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 (𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚝 4 𝚊𝚖)

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

You were one of the best healers the awakened world had ever came to see. But... There was just two flaws. Just two.

That kept you. Held you down from becoming the best. From achieving the title of the greatest.

What was it one may ask?

Well.. . Your healing touch.. . Came with a price. A condition.

A person.. Or just about any living being, had to be at death's door for your ability to work. They had to be in a state that the majority would refer to as fatal. They had to be tethering on the edges of life.

And who had to be the one to deliver that most of the time? You of course.

You see. People came to you for many reasons. And while their injuries might've been fatal.... Sometimes it isn't fatal enough and you had to make a few adjustments yourself.

Oh how laughably pathetic it was... Their expressions... When they thought that you had made enough "adjustments" for the ability to work.

Only for it all to flop. The more time passed by. The more the hope in their eyes seemed to wither away.

But eventually you always got the job done. Flawlessly even. Your ability being so powerful that it would even get rid of permanent scars.

Which one time got you in trouble as a client almost lashed out for it. Claiming that the scars were a show of their prowess and strength. Which you couldn't help but roll your eyes at.

But aside from all that... You also didn't have the ability to heal internal wounds..

These were the only things that kept you from being the greatest.

People preferred to not go through more pain. Even though yours required you less energy than Kartein's methods.

You were the second greatest.

Kartein being the nemesis that you once admired but cannot stand any longer.

But alas you worked for him. As a result having to see him around most oftenly.

Even as your blood boiled at the mere sight of him, you did nothing against him. Not uttering a single word.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You went along with Kartein to everywhere he went.

And this time. It wasn't any different. You had come to Korea. Following right behind him. Just like the right hand man you were.

You were almost about to offer your own treatments for the young boy's broken body when you stopped yourself.

Yes. You might've worked under him. But you didn't go out of your way to help him... You used to... But not anymore. And he, ever the independent and confident, never asked for it.

So you stepped back and refrained from any interference. Watching as he wasted his power and energy on the weak little boy.

You found the situation quite foolish. If he was going to continue being Kayden's disciple, why did Kayden not figure out a way to protect him? How does he except the boy to thrive and blossom if he's always exposed to the trampling beasts?

You only stood in the side lines. Letting you stare bore into them as you judged them all heavily.

Afterwards as Kartein turned into a malnourished and visibly neutered feline, you asked the golden question.

"Should I go and tell everyone that your now a cat that won't be coming to work? "

Which Kartein immediately shut down. As he seemed to be wanting to keep it a secret. But stated that for you to return back would be fine.

And so you went back to from where you had come. The headquarters feeling like home when you returned, despite you hating every inch of the place.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Kartein's absence was quite a thorn in your side. Without his presence all of the responsibilities fell onto your shoulders. Every mess he had created, every client he had declined, you had to deal with all.

It was hard when many saw you as less capable. As a lesser being.

Many demanded his presence. As if convincing the man himself was child's play.

Or maybe it was. Maybe that's why your superior got fooled by the Kayden so very often. But that's Kayden. Not you. Your thoughts mattered once in a blue moon.

And he seemed to be enjoying himself in Korea. Quite a bit.

You thought he had completely forgotten of all his responsibilities when you received an email.

But your shock instantly deflated.

Why? Well Kartein occasionally has a convenient habit of throwing clients your way when he doesn't feel like granting them the time of day.

And this time was no different.

The email was rather vague though. But it gave off the feeling that the client was an important figure.

Wanting to find out more, you booked a flight to Korea.

And when you arrived, you sure as hell were surprised.

Out of all the people you expected to be Kartein's client. You most definitely did not expect the 50th of the Awakened world Vator.

You thought the man would have some dignity. A slight bit of self respect.

But you were a fool to hope for it.

Oh how pathetic he seemed. So desperate. His words so persistent and repetitive.

At this point he might as well just fall onto his knees and beg.

No wonder Kartein had called you up despite how unlike him that is. This man was likely eating away at his brain.

He was pushy and even admitted that he had accepted Kartein as the most beautiful of all Awakeners.

How pathetic, you couldn't help but sneer. Did he seriously think that would get Kartein to heal him? Is he brain dead or what?

Did Kayden's lighting bolts kill off all the neurons in his head?

Kartein replied in suit as expected. But the glorious moment was getting on your nerves so you cleared your throat, announcing you presence.

"She must be here! "

Vator cheered like never before turning to face you. The moment he saw your face all the color and vibrance drained from his visage.

You only smiled widely in response. Masking your distaste.

Kartein seemed to visibly brighten at your arrival. Quickly yet gracefully standing up and whispering a "He's yours. " with a hint of hatred to you before stepping out of the room accompanied by Kayden.

You only nodded in response. Stare fixated on the cyan headed individual. Hastily grabbing onto his arms as he attempted to step out.

Yanking him back and throwing him onto the couch. He tumbled back and fell. Huffing and puffing. Looking up at you red faced.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was truly so fun. So exciting. Vator was trashing around so desperately. Anything just to move out of the way of your blades.

His whimpers only feeding into your amusement.

Anything to stop the stinging sensation. He didn't know much about healing and injuring. But he sure as hell knew that holding and rubbing alcohol swabs against his wounds wouldn't put his life at risk.

He knew enough to know that twisting one's fingers weren't life threatening.

But he couldn't say much. He couldn't bring himself to show that he was afraid.

He was the world's 50th. He's faced off pain much much worse than this. This is nothing new. It won't hurt.

That's what he wanted to convince himself.

But his heart almost fell out of his rib cage the moment he witnessed the sight of you pulling out a bone saw.

Was he to lose limbs now?

.... This shouldn't be so scary... But.. But then why... Does his heart hammer so loudly... Why does his pupils shake... Why does he get dizzy at the sight of the large blade gleaming in the dim lighting?

He wanted to contain his pride. He really did.

But he couldn't help the hitching in his breath as you brought the saw lower and lower and lower.

The closer you brought it to his leg, the harder his heart pounded, the shakier his breathing got and the more dizzying it all got.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

He was truly at how.

Your work, it was so flawlessly.

It's as if the scar never existed. As if his never got injured.

He was shocked, bewildered as not heal any injuries made by awakened ones, healers would have to use a lot of their own power as the energy of the attacker, if a powerful one, stays with the injury and affects the victim.

How... How did you do it?

But aside from that, he had another thought.

The small gentle little voice he heard, when you thought he was unconscious.

That gentle hand stroking his hair. Mumbling apologies.

That... That was you...

But why...

Weren't you laughing at his misery a few moments before?

Why... Where did this sympathy come from.. The remorse...

Were you not the way everyone knew you as?

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗 😅

I'm not really sure if this turned out good.

#eleceed #eleceed x reader #vator #bator #vator x reader #x reader #reader with Akiko Yosano from bsd's powers #healer reader #kartein #kayden #jiwoo #seo jiwoo #jiwoo seo #neutered kartein #reader being a kartein hater #request #requested

59 notes · View notes

eyesforahead · 1 year

Text

GENSHIN IMPACT FAKE SENARIO

Your actions matter, think carefully!

Scenario: A battle has happened and your friend's are fatally injured you can only save one ! The rest will die.

ALHAITHAM - HE WANTS TO TELL KAVEH HIS TRUE FEELING HOW HE IS IN LOVE WITH HIM BEFORE HE DIES. (I couldn't fit it in)

So, dear viewer, who shall live and who shall die?

62 notes · View notes

thatmadshifter11 · 6 days

Text

The Shadowsinger and The Mistress of Love and Lust Pt.2

As the first rays of dawn break over the horizon, I finally allow myself to rest, leaning against him, our bodies entwined. His once bloody and torn wings are now starting to heal, the skin slowly knitting itself back together. There's still a long way to go, but we've made it through the night, and that's a victory in itself. I let myself relax against the man who I had loved for centuries the one who is now my mate, we haven't even gotten to talk about it the way we are bound to each other. To be completely honest I don’t know if I should even be sleeping beside him since he has said nothing to me other then “Mate” that doesn't mean he accepts it but it also doesn't mean he doesn’t.

I close my eyes, allowing the exhaustion to take over. But even as I drift off, I know that when I wake, I'll be ready to face another day, to continue the fight, to heal and protect my mate. I also know that he will do the same for me even if he doesn’t accept the Bond because that is just the type of man he is one with a heart. You may not be able to tell under all the brooding and shadowy exterior but he is one of the kindest most genuine men I have ever met.

His soft whisper rouses me from my sleep, "Thank you, Cici," and I squeeze his hand in response, and blush lightly noticing our proximity and the way we are both covered in his blood. “uh how about a bath?” I ask easing up from the bed moaning my exhaustion taking over me. Before my pain fully takes over I could’ve swore he said something about how he’d only take one if I joined him. I feel my old scars they are sore and my eyes are slowly lose their sight. I think quickly and using the last of my strength I winnow to Cassian and Nesta’s tent. “Cass? Nes?”

I stumble in blindly bumping into a wall- wait not a wall my best friend, Cass! “Cia are you alright?” he asks shaking me lightly and looking me over. “Where's Az is he ok” he asks frantic. “H-he's fine but I need help,” I say shakily. “My powers are weak and without anything to refuel them before I'm done with Az….” My eyes are welling up with my bloody gold tears and I let them fall.

Cass scoops me into a warm, brotherly hug. I hear Nesta approach, “What do you need to refuel?” she asks me and I can’t help but assume she is crossing her arms like I have watched her do for years when she gets curious. I smile, my senses and skills really show when I'm blind it almost makes me want to stay this way, but I will miss colors and glitter being able to see my family's smiling faces.

“Blood,” my voice shaky as I say it. Nesta huffs and hear footsteps shuffling around next thing I know I loose the presence of my best friend and I'm left myself. I can’t help but let my tears fall. I hear them again and Nesta approaches me grabbing my hands. “Eris said he’ll help he said he's done it before,” she says in a hushed tone.

Which brings me back to the time I spent with Eris camped in a cave hiding from threats, as he survived on animals we killed and my powers keeping him afloat as I kept myself replenished with his strong High Fae blood. He was the first High Fae I had ever drunken from. He allowed me to keep drinking from him as long as he stayed strong and healthy we survived 4 months out in the wilderness that way.

“Where is he?! I need it now,” I say agitated wanting to get back to my mate. “He is going to the healing tent to gather supplies,” “Alright thank you so much Nes,” I said leaning up to give her a kiss on the check which ends up rather sloppily on her ear. She laughs, a sound I haven’t heard from her in awhile. Eris helps me and gives me a few bags of fresh blood so I don't have to wonder around like that again. I rush back to Az fully recharged and ready to help him as much as I can.

15 notes · View notes

mika-writes-fanfics · 1 year

Text

Healing Touch

Dabi x Fem!Reader fan fiction

Synopsis: You encounter an injured Shigaraki and offer your healing quirk to his aid. Little did you know, healers were hard to come by in the underground and Shigaraki takes a liking to your skills. To further his cause, he kidnaps you and holds you captive under the watch of the LOV. You play the role of the LOV's little healer while you think of a way to escape. Unbeknownst to you, the pyromaniac with a cold heart begins to melt in your presence. Your compassion and wit draw him in, all the while he swears it's only curiosity he feels toward you. But when your touch heals his burns and your personality soothes his anguish, Dabi begins to wonder, what exactly is he feeling for you? And why the hell does he feel so torn up when you slip away?

Warnings/Tags: canon-typical violence, Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, female/afab reader, healing quirk, aftermath of hideout raid

Author's Note: Okay a lot happens this chapter but bear with me, I’m speedrunning to the smut because I promised within 3 chapters and I’m trying to fucking deliver. I originally wanted to have reader also be teleported away with Bakugo since it would be closer to the canon, as AFO tp’d bakugo since Shiggy thought he was important. I went with this instead because the other idea did not translate well in writing. Waaaayy too much action for a fic, I’ll take a plot hole instead, thank you very much. You guys pick if you drink tea or coffee (if you drink neither I'm sorry lol). Anyways, rambling aside, I hope you enjoy

Word Count: 8.1K

Link to AO3

Chapter Eight: Pizza Delivery!

Dabi can tell you’re much more distant now, no doubt because of what Compress said, or rather, what the league had done. You try to hide your feelings behind a mask of neutrality, but Dabi is perceptive. He’s good at reading people, especially you. You’ve spent so much time around him and you’ve occupied so much space in his head that it’s become second nature for him to memorize your face. Besides the fact that he’s noticed your face is no longer as carefree, it’s easy to see how much differently you’re acting towards him. You heal his hands over without any comments and your touch doesn’t linger on him a moment longer than necessary. You’ve completely withdrawn from him, it seems.

“Let him out of the marble in a minute, we need time to prepare,” Shigaraki orders. “Kurogiri, get the stuff.”

Kurogiri nods and bows, leaving the room to fetch the required restraints. You watch in slight horror as he returns with a chair, hand restraints, and a full-body harness equipped with locks. They must really think this kid is a danger to them to go to those lengths. You weren’t even restrained like that when Shigaraki abducted you, but to be fair, your kidnapping was more spur of the moment and less planned out than this. If snatching this kid was the whole purpose of the mission, the LOV has been gearing up for at least a week. You remember hearing Magne say this plan will humiliate UA, and you know Shigaraki’s main goal is dismantling hero society. You’re not entirely sure how the two are connected, but there’s one thing you’re sure of: Shigaraki will use any methods necessary to achieve that goal.

You’re glad you finished healing Dabi when you did. Touching him after seeing the methods they intend to use on a child would confuse you more than you already are. You want to ask him just what the hell was he thinking, why did he even agree to this, and what methods would he stoop down to in order to achieve his own goals. You want to know, no, you need to know, as if understanding would make the hurt go away and would repair your now tainted view of him. This situation makes you realize how far you’ve fallen, how desensitized to their crimes you’ve become. Seeing the league’s humanity and domesticity has done a number on your mind. What part do you play in this? Are you helping them commit these atrocities? Or are you really just looking out for yourself? The questions and racing thoughts burn through your emotional energy. You feel so damn drained.

As confusing and depressing as your situation is right now, you have to ask yourself: What can you do right now? You don’t have the power to run away, to change their minds, to condemn their behavior, to break the kid out of captivity. But what you can do is heal the kid if he’s hurt, share with him what you’ve learned, and provide him with anything that could possibly be useful. If this kid has a fighting quirk, he has the best chance of getting out. If he manages to pull it off then maybe, just maybe, he could tell someone where you are. People aren’t looking for you because it looked like you either disappeared into thin air or ran off entirely without telling anyone. If the authorities know where to look and who you’re with, it’s possible you can get out sooner. The moral dilemmas will come after you’ve made it out, but not a moment sooner. Carrying on is all you can do besides give the kid all the tools to escape.

While you’re in your own head rationalizing everything, Dabi takes notice of you. He sees the gears turning in your head and the expressions of sadness that accompany them. It wrenches his chest, a bit, to see you so despondent and to experience you acting so distant. He’s grown used to the banter you share. Your laughs, smiles, and mischievous expressions have become simple pleasures he looks forward to after a long day of tainting his hands and staining his soul. All good things must come to an end, he’s especially cognizant of that fact of life. Still, it stings to know the good slice of his life that is you will be ripped away from him so soon. He convinces himself it’s for the best. Growing closer to you is a distraction from his life’s purpose. Losing you is part of the price tag that comes with buying into revenge.

The two of you are stirred out of your thoughts upon Kurogiri setting everything up under Shigaraki’s orders. The chair is placed on the opposite side of the room, far away from everyone else. With all the restraints weaved through the chair legs and backrest, it won’t be easy for this kid to just break free of the bindings. Shigaraki gives the go-ahead, allowing Compress to release his quirk. The kid emerges from the marble and lays out on the floor, unconscious. Seeing the kid completely unresponsive makes you sick. Intrusive thoughts make you picture this poor kid getting knocked out before his abduction, which only worsens your spiraling mind.

“Well that’s definitely Bakugo Katsuki,” Shigaraki comments. “Why’s he knocked out though? I told you all to not harm the target.”

“Looks like he fell asleep in that marble,” Compress reasons. “He was unharmed when he went in, but he’s been compressed for an hour or two. I suspect he was bored in there.” You find yourself feeling somewhat relieved upon hearing this information.

“I guess this is to our benefit. He’ll be easier to restrain this way,” Shigaraki settles. “Kurogiri, you do it. If he wakes up, you know what to do.” Kurogiri follows his orders and gently places Bakugo in the chair, clasping all the restraints around him. It’s kind of amazing how he’s able to sleep through it all.

‘This kid is one hell of a heavy sleeper,’ you think.

“Since he’s still asleep, we’ll go over what happens next,” Shigaraki announces.

“Should we really do this in earshot of him? If he wakes up, he’ll hear everything,” Dabi criticizes.

“Well we can’t just leave him alone,” Shigaraki refutes.

“Look at him, do you really think he’ll be able to get out of that?” Dabi points out. Shigaraki seems to consider the idea, though he doesn’t budge quite yet. “It’s your call, but I think this is stupid either way.”

“Fine! We’ll talk about it in the kitchen,” Shigaraki throws his hands up and relents. The rest of the league files out of the room. You’re about to follow before Shigaraki singles you out. “And you,” he points at you. “Go to your room.”

“Me? What did I do?” You ask, incredulously. Somehow this feels like a punishment.

“I’m not risking you breaking out the kid and ruining my plans while we’re busy,” he justifies. “You’re going upstairs.”

“Okay mom, how long am I grounded for then?”

“Until I say so. Go fuck off to your room, now,” he warns, crimson eyes glaring at you in annoyance. His tone and choice of words let you know he’s in no mood for your antics or sarcasm today. Shigaraki seems tense. This plan of his is evidently high stakes, but so is yours. You take the warning and head up the stairs, pretending to go into your room. Your feet stop just short of the top of the stairs, carefully peering around the corner and listening out.

Shigaraki pulls them all to another room to start discussing the plan, detailing the reason why he asked for Bakugo’s kidnapping. You’re ever thankful that the league tends to be loud as it makes your intentions much easier to pull off. You slip past the door and carefully tiptoe to the kid. Your luck must finally be turning, as you see the kid slowly start to regain consciousness. He blinks a few times, carmine eyes adjusting to the light. You see a flash of panic on his face upon seeing the new environment and feeling the restraints constricting his body.

“I’m sorry this happened to you. Did they hurt you?” You whisper, expressing your condolences. He seems to be a fiery kid, as his face twists in a sneer.

“Get the fuck away from me, wench,” the blonde kid bites. You back up and raise your arms, despite the fact he’s completely tied to a chair. You’re starting to see the intimidation factor that seems to surround this kid.

“Woah there, I’m like you, kid. I don’t want to be here either, they kidnapped me too,” you negotiate carefully.

“So what, you just decided to fight for them after they kidnapped you? That’s pretty pathetic if you ask me,” he insults. Your eyebrow twitches. You’re trying to help him, does this kid really need to rub salt in the wound?

“One, I didn’t ask you. Two, I can’t fight, I’m here because of my healing quirk. And three, I’m trying to help you,” you lecture.

“Oh,” he says, in a rather small voice. It’s clear the kid is at least a little ashamed of his outburst.

“Yeah, jump to conclusions much?” You sass. You try to reign in your exasperation and approach the situation gently. “Now, one more time, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, they barely even scratched me. Though that one stapled guy had a death grip on my neck,” he complains. Your heart drops at the revelation.

“Sounds like Dabi,” you inform, trying to cover up your saddened tone. You push your emotions to the side and focus on helping the kid. A quick visual pass over his neck doesn’t reveal any injuries, thankfully. “I don’t see any bruises, so it looks like you’re okay.”

“How long have you been here?” He asks. You can almost detect the faintest bit of sympathy in his voice.

“You know, now that you mention it… I’ve kinda lost track,” you say somberly. “But that doesn’t matter right now. Do you know if your friends or teachers see it happen? If they know why you’re gone and who took you, they’re probably already looking for you as we speak.”

“Oh they saw everything alright,” he snorts. You’re surprised at that, you would have figured with all the sneaky quirks up their sleeve that the LOV would have done this stealthily. Though, remembering how Magne remarked that this plan was supposed to humiliate UA, which you’ve come to realize is a school, makes you see that stealth was never the point.

“I have a feeling the heroes will at least try to rescue you, but if you have a strong quirk, you might be able to make your own way,” you explain. “But listen to me, do not brute force an escape. Take the opportunity if it presents itself, but don’t put yourself in danger. If you get out and I don’t, keep going. You can just tell the heroes where I am.”

“Like I’d leave a civilian with them. I wouldn’t be a hero-in-training if I just left you here. We’ll break out of here and pummel those bastards, I promise!” he says with conviction. His spitfire personality grows on you a bit in that moment. Even though he was a little rude to you at first, you still want to help him any way you can. You fill him in on what you’ve learned about the league, mostly giving him information about all their quirks and potential weaknesses. The league’s chatter in the other room seems to slowly die down. With the remaining time you have, you warn him not to attack and that subtly is safer, to which he seems incredibly appalled by.

“I’m not much of a faker,” he says with pride. “I make my own opening, my way.”

“We’ll talk about why that’s such a terrible idea later, I gotta go back before they notice,” You hurriedly advise. “You gotta pretend you didn’t see me, alright? I wasn’t supposed to be down here with you.” He gives you an understanding nod and you take the chance to scurry away. You’re actually thankful you’ve been at the league’s base for so long, as you’ve recognized which floorboards creak the most and which path is the quietest. You slip away and head to your room, unnoticed. It’s incredibly lucky that you haven’t been caught scheming. Your ears strain to pick up on everyone’s footfalls until the sounds become more clear, before eventually stopping entirely. It seems they’re done with the debriefing process and are back in the bar.

“Y/n! Shigaraki said you’re not grounded anymore!” Toga calls out. You don’t hesitate to take the opportunity and you head downstairs, joining the others. Everyone seems to be staring at Bakugo in either anticipation or caution. They seem to avoid getting near his space, as evident by the distance between Bakugo and the others. The atmosphere is incredibly tense, no doubt due to the seething expression on Bakugo’s face. An uneasy silence settles in the room. Even the more talkative members of the LOV refrain from talking. Shigaraki is the one to speak first, breaking the silence and establishing his control over the situation.

“Dabi, take off his restraints,” Shigaraki commands.

“You know he’s just going to try to fight us, right?” Dabi asks, doubtful of his leader’s plan.

“It’s fine, if we’re scouting him, we need to treat him like equals,” Shigaraki dismisses. Shigaraki’s words fail to convince him.

Dabi looks at the kid, sizing him up. He must not like what he sees as he offloads the responsibility onto Twice. “Twice, you do it.”

“Why me?!” Twice exclaims. Even he doesn’t seem too thrilled about the idea.

“Just do it,” Dabi insists, exasperated by Twice’s hesitance.

“No way,” Twice denies with exaggerated gestures, before dropping the resistance entirely. Twice ends up walking over to Bakugo and unlocking all the restraints. You try to shoot him a look as a reminder about what the two of you secretly discussed: don’t be stupid and do something obvious. The warning is lost on the kid as he ignores your intense gaze and lunges for Shigaraki. An explosion hits the leader in the face, clouding him in a bit of smoke. The kid quickly backs away from Shigaraki’s space, taking advantage of the initial shock.

You stare at Bakugo, dumbfounded, with an expression that can only communicate, ‘What the fuck are you doing?!’

You feel yourself sweating out of stress. Shigaraki seems completely stunned, but despite his initial lack of reaction, you find yourself growing anxious upon realizing that his hand mask is on the floor. You’ve never seen him take it off. He’s gotta be especially protective over that thing. Bakugo seems to be eyeing the situation, eyes darting back and forth between everyone, clearly cooking up a plan to escape. It’s then you realized you forgot to tell him all the doors are locked. You feel a dawning horror invade your emotions. This is going terribly and you can’t help but feel it’s all your fault.

To your surprise, Shigaraki doesn’t respond with malice. Rather, he commands for everyone to leave the kid unharmed. He specifically instructs Compress and Kurogiri to put him back to sleep. The mercy the LOV leader is showing is incredibly unlike him, but welcome nonetheless. Shigaraki’s orders make you release the breath you were holding and relax. Still, you don’t tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding, staying alert in case you can help the kid out in some way. Compress carefully begins to approach Bakugo. The kid sizes up the situation and seems to brace himself for the chance he could dodge Compress.

A knock on the door makes everyone halt in their places, momentarily pausing the confrontation. “Pizza delivery!” A voice says from behind the door. The league members look at each other in skepticism.

“Did one of you idiots order a fucking pizza, I swear to god-“ Shigaraki questions, cut off by a loud crash that sounds off to the right of them. You turn to look, seeing the wall blown in by people donned in capes and bodysuits. The sight makes you want to cry in relief. It’s the heroes, the two of you are saved. You even see All Might amongst the heroes, the man who’s known internationally for being the unbeatable symbol of peace. You just hope that All Might remains unstoppable in the face of the League of Villains. The heroes don’t hesitate a second longer, as everyone springs into action. Tree branches reach for all the villains, ensnaring everyone, including you. It's then you realize how your situation must look from the outside. The heroes think you’re a villain.

Fuck.

How do you convince them you’re not a threat when there’s not even time for you to speak?

A flash of blue fire erupts from Dabi’s head. If the heroes don’t neutralize his quirk, he’ll definitely burn the branches restraining you all until nothing remains but ash. You were hopeful you’d get out of here, but you’re feeling doubtful now. The situation is incredibly hectic and ever-changing. A flash of yellow zooms past you, moving far too fast for your eyes to fully comprehend. When you turn your head, you catch sight of an old man in a yellow cape kicking Dabi on the back of the head. Dabi’s eyes seem to roll back and he slumps forward into the branches. The scene makes you absolutely dumbstruck. Dabi is knocked out cold.

With Dabi ‘dispatched’, his flames are no longer an issue. The only blaring issue that remains to you is figuring out how to convince the heroes you aren’t a criminal. You’re not really given an opportunity, as All Might’s booms over yours. The sheer volume of his voice commands the room, there’s no way you can speak over him. All Might is completely focused on Bakugo, fussing over him like a concerned parent. They have a quick, heart-to-heart conversation, something about how terrifying it must have been for Bakugo to handle this on his own. Even in such a sincere moment, Bakugo’s personality shines through, as he vehemently denies ever feeling scared at all. The heroes are gloating as Shigaraki seethes at the scene, twitching from rage. You swear your eyes catch sight of something in the air, some red string that keeps catching the light. You’re straining to see what it is when the thread thickens. A face emerges from the thread, startling you. You’d jump on the spot if you weren’t completely immobilized.

“Oh? Who’s this? It appears our intel failed to find out a new villain joined their ranks,” the face muses. You open your mouth to counter his accusation, but you’re beaten to the point.

“Edgeshot, she’s not a villain!” Bakugo yells. “She’s just a civilian.”

“Not only did you abduct my pupil, but a civilian too?” All Might condemns, before confidently continuing. “It’s over. The childish pranks end now.”

All Might’s words must have enraged Shigaraki and pulled him out of his stunned stupor. Shigaraki shouts orders at Kurogiri to open up a warp gate, but the heroes have thought ahead. Kurogiri is pierced through the abdomen by who you understand is the hero Edgeshot, and promptly slumps over, Kurogiri’s body seemingly completely limp. You’re aghast in horror until the hero reappears from the thread and claims to have merely put him to sleep. You feel like you’re on a rollercoaster, with constant ups and downs, getting scared and worried just to feel slightly more at ease before the cycle happens again.

All Might seems to ask Shigaraki a question, something that seems important to the heroes, but you don’t pay it any mind. You can’t seem to focus on their conversation. Something just seems off. It appears there’s something in certain spots of the air that distorts, rippling in a way that’s reminiscent of water. You know it’s not the thread hero again, as he’s already materialized. These distortions are much different anyways. It’s almost like a dark spot is appearing, floating in space. Your suspicions are confirmed as black ooze seems to drip down out of thin air. The viscous mixture seems to grow in size as it pours down until you see pale limbs reaching out. Strange, humanoid beings come out of the sludge. Several of them have their brains exposed and completely uncovered by a skull. You feel sick just at the sight of something so unnatural and grotesque. What the hell are these things?

Whatever summoned these creatures takes advantage of the chaos. Black sludge erupts from the mouths of all LOV members. It encases the villains in a shroud of darkness and their bodies disappear into the inky depths, without a trace and leaving behind empty space where they were once restrained by branches. Bakugo seems to have been transported out of the room as well. His disappearance causes All Might to frantically yell upon failing to grab him. You’re shocked to see the hero look so caught off guard and genuinely emotional. He’s always been known to smile even in the face of danger. The fact he’s so openly shouting in distress is more than alarming.

You’re even more taken aback when you see the creatures begin to lunge for the heroes, forcing All Might and the rest to fight back. It’s clear to you that whatever the hell these monsters are, they’re far from friendly and they are numerous. The creatures seem to be even outside of the bar, as evident by the shrills of terror. It sounds terrible out there, you can hear screams, bullets, and the sound of fighting.

As you watch the scene unfold, your eyes accidentally make eye contact with a monster. One seems to turn in your direction and hone in on you. Your wide eyes stare in horror at the creature as it rushes towards you. It leaps and lunges at you. You flinch and screw your eyes shut, unable to do anything else besides steel yourself for the inevitable. The wooden hero creates a wall of branches between you and the monster, blocking off its attack.

“There’s too many! Kamui, get her out of here!” You overhear Edgeshot shout. Kamui, who you’ve come to realize is the tree hero, follows Edgeshot’s orders. The branches pull you from the room and out from the gaping hole in the wall, away from the chaos and combat. You’re lifted onto a nearby roof, still tightly bound by Kamui’s quirk. He stands near the edge of the building, seemingly scanning the surroundings, probably looking for a safer place to deliver you. You look over the streets as well, seeing destruction everywhere you look. It’s clear there’s no escape from the turmoil just yet. You catch his heroic posture faltering, with his shoulders drooping ever so slightly. No words are shared between the two of you as you both wait for the conflict to die down, unable to tear your eyes away from the morbid scene.

Eventually, enough bullets are spent and enough blood has been shed, as the strange creatures are put down. Kamui makes the descent down from the roof with you in tow. You’re delivered in front of a flaming hero, with a permanent scowl on his face, conversing with a police officer. Their attention immediately snaps to you. The large, flaming man looks at you with disinterest, but the officer seems perplexed by you.

“And who is this supposed to be?” The hero grills Kamui.

“Don’t know, we saw her in the base with the League of Villains,” he answers. “Kid believes she’s a civilian.”

“Civilian, huh? That’s rich,” the flame hero scoffs. The hero turns his attention to the police officer and gives him an order. “Put the quirk cuffs on her, we’ll process her like any other villain until we have actual evidence saying otherwise.”

The police officer looks skeptical and doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, his eyes narrow at you and he looks at you with vague recognition. The hero takes notice of his hesitance and asks, clearly annoyed, “What’s the hold-up?”

“Endeavor, with all due respect, I don’t believe she is a villain,” the policeman objects.

“Don’t tell me even you are falling for this ruse,” the hero sneers. “She was surely a part of some plan to trick the student. She probably lied to him and posed as another victim in order to gain his trust.”

“I worked a case a while back. A University student went missing without a trace. She matches the description,” he informs. The hero, who you assume is named Endeavor, remains unconvinced. The officer sighs, and compromises, “Look, we could ask her some questions, and if her answers match, then she’s actually a civilian and telling the truth.” Endeavor seems to think it over, relenting upon seeing the officer’s determined expression.

“Fine, ask your stupid questions, but she’s going to Tartarus if her answers don’t check out. Mark my words,” Endeavor warns. The officer gives a curt nod and turns to you.

“What’s your first name?” He opens.

“Y/n,” you answer.

“And your quirk?”

“Healing skin.”

“Seems like her,” the officer gloats. Endeavor remains skeptical, as is evident with his narrowed eyes and mouth pressed in a scowl.

Endeavor counters the officer’s claim, “Couldn’t she be pretending to be your missing university student? If it was all over the news-”

“It wasn’t,” the officer interrupts. “So many people go missing in this district that one more hardly makes the news. It’s her, there’s not a doubt in my mind.”

“What were you doing with the League of Villains?” Endeavor interrogates. He seems incredibly suspicious of you. You suppose you can’t really blame him. Edgeshot assumed you were in cahoots with the league back at the hideout. From an outsider’s perspective, you really did look suspect. Still, you have an opportunity to clear your name. The most you can do is tell your story and hope they believe you.

“Shigaraki knocked me out when I ran into him one night. When I woke up, I realized I had been kidnapped,” you explain. “He liked my quirk and thought I’d be useful. If I didn’t heal the league like he asked, he said he’d disintegrate me.��

Endeavor lets out an exhausted sigh, before rubbing his temples with one hand. “Take her to HPSC headquarters. The commission is gonna want to hear about this,” he orders the officer.

Kamui takes this as a sign to unhand you. He finally releases you from his quirk’s hold, much to your relief. The officer speaks into the radio on his suit, updating the situation and requesting a squad car, before leading you away. He escorts you away from the aftermath of the raid, guiding you through the scattered piles of debris, until you arrive at the police car, parked on an intact street with another officer waiting expectantly outside. The additional police officer opens the door to the backseat for you and you climb in, after which she shuts it behind you. Sounds of sirens and yelling are muffled in the car, giving you a momentary respite from all the commotion and the ability to finally process what happened.

You sit in the back of the squad car, contemplating everything that has happened while staring out the window. Just a few hours ago, you were healing the league and even laughing with them. After you realized they kidnapped a kid and then the heroes broke down the wall, everything seemed to just crash down at once. Somehow, you developed a sort of camaraderie with the lot, despite not subscribing to their goals and actively wishing to be away from them. You adapted to it. Life with the league became your new normal. But what will your normal be now? You doubt your life can just rewind back to the way it was before you were kidnapped, not since you escaped the clutches of the league. Speaking of, would they come back for you? Would they punish you for escaping? Would you ever see him again? These are questions you never thought to ask all the times you were fantasizing about fleeing. Now that you’re here, the questions are unavoidable and unfortunately, without answers.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don't care to listen to the officers radioing their superiors. You only process that they started the car when you see the scenery whizzing by. The drive to headquarters is simultaneously overwhelming yet quiet. The officers haven’t spoken a word to you since loading you into the car, leaving you to drown in your own head.

You thought you’d be happy to see the outside again, but now that you’re here, it’s incredibly overstimulating. The lights are too bright, the buildings are too big, and the radio relaying updates is far too loud. Your hands ball up in your lap, knuckles turning white from your anxious clenching. You worry your time in captivity has ruined you, and the thought only serves to heighten your anxiety.

The car eventually rolls up to a large building and parks on the curb. One of the officers opens your car door after getting out herself, and you step out and onto the sidewalk. They both lead you into the building, where they freely walk into the lobby, filled with heroes coming and going. The receptionist doesn’t bother to stop the officers, instead giving them a look of recognition and an understanding nod. You all shuffle into an elevator and rise to the top floor. The ascent is silent until the elevator dings and the metal doors slide open. You all step out of the elevator and into a sort of waiting area, where a man with crimson red wings greets the officers. They exchange polite greetings all the while you stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do in the situation. The pupils in the hero’s yellow eyes seem to narrow to slits when they dart to you, sizing you up with interest.

“So this must be the little dove found at the hideout,” the feathered hero muses, as he looks at you.

“You’d be correct,” the officer confirms. “We’re supposed to escort Miss y/n to the Safety Commission President. Would you know where she is around now?”

“Don’t worry about it, I can take over from here. You two must have a mountain of paperwork after the Kamino raid, ” Hawks offers. They seem to be grateful for this, as you’re handed off to the bird-like hero. The police officers say their thanks before heading back down through the elevators, leaving you alone with yet another new person.

“The name’s Hawks. Nice to meet you, y/n,” he introduces, rather informally.

“Y-yeah, likewise,” you stutter, feeling a bit nervous in the company of a new stranger. “Um, Hawks?”

“Hmm?” He hums.

“Why am I here?”

“You’ve piqued the interest of some very important people,” he explains. You must look worried as he quickly adds, “They just want to know about what happened to you and what you know, that sort of thing.”

“I see…” you reply, voice trailing off.

You’re led through the halls and into a sort of conference room. Five strangers in formal business wear sit behind a slightly curved desk, arranged in a sort of panel. Hawks ushers you to the center of the room, leaving you to stand in front of them as he posts himself near the door. You’re not sure what is going on. Your palms start sweating from nervousness. It feels like you’re in a courtroom, on trial. One of the five people sitting behind the long table presses a button on what you assume is some sort of audio recording device. The questions feel endless, just one after another, all asking about the LOV. Over time, they seem less suspicious of you and your story, especially after explaining Shigaraki’s initial threats. The meeting, or rather, the interrogation ends with a question about Shigaraki and Dabi.

“Do you know their real names? We have reason to suspect their current identifiers are just monikers. Nothing is known of their real identities. Anything you know could be useful,” one of them explains. You shake your head.

“They never revealed their true names and I never cared to ask,” you inform. There’s a look of disappointment on her face before she shuts the recorder off.

“I see. That’s a shame,” she responds. “As a precautionary measure, we’ve arranged for you to be housed in a safe location, where you will stay until the League of Villains is captured. It’s unlikely they will try to find you given the severe blow the raid inflicted on them, but please, bear with us until then. We appreciate your cooperation.”

The door clicks open and you take that as your cue to leave, eagerly walking out with Hawks trailing behind you. You’re relieved for the process to finally be over. That damn interrogation was anxiety-inducing to say the least. Your apparent discomfort must be noticeable to Hawks, no doubt from your loud sighs, as he places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You alright?” Hawks asks. There’s this small hint of genuine concern in his voice, something you picked up on. From the interactions you’ve had with him, he always seems to have this sort of carefree and upbeat personality.

“I will be,” you offer. You rub at your eyes, feeling the effects of your hectic day wearing down your energy. “Some sleep would help. I’ll probably feel a bit better in the morning.”

“I hear ya,” he responds. “Come on, I’ll get you out of here so you can rest, follow me.” He notions to the elevators with a nod of his head in that direction, and proceeds to walk over. Hawks calls for the elevator and you follow him in when the doors open. He tucks his large wings closer to his body, so that they don’t take up as much space. You weren’t able to see he pushed the up button, so when the elevator rises to the roof access, revealing the night sky, you’re more than a little confused.

“I thought you were taking me out of here?” You ask.

“I am,” he responds, almost matter-of-factly.

“But why are we on the roof?”

“Why walk when you could fly?”

“Oh hell no,” you refuse.

“I’m fast, it’ll be over before you know it,” he bargains. “It’s more secure this way anyways. You can’t be followed as easily.”

“Okay, okay. Fine. Just… don’t drop me,” you relent, understanding his point.

“I wouldn’t be a very good hero if I let you fall,” he laughs. “You’ll be fine, hold on tight.”

He scoops you into his arms and you tightly cling to the fabric of his shirt. His wings flap, sending powerful gusts of wind, until you’re both lifted off the ground. The roof grows farther and farther away from you as he ascends into the sky. True to his words, he’s incredibly fast, as the skyscrapers seem to whizz by, almost blurring together. The experience is equal parts nerve-wracking, exhilarating, and freeing. It had been so long since you’d last seen the night sky, and now it feels like you’re seeing it much closer than ever before. Had you not been in the arms of a reliable hero, you’d be more scared-shitless and less naturally wary of this experience.

He eventually lands on the roof of what looks to be an apartment high-rise. Your legs feel wobbly from the adrenaline when he finally sets you down. You’re thankful he gives you a few moments to recollect yourself, before showing you down a flight of stairs and into a hall of apartment doors. He opens the unlocked door to your provided room and ushers you in.

“You should be safe here,” he assures. “Most of your neighbors are heroes. You’re in good hands, but just in case, I’ll be checking in every so often.”

“Thank you, Hawks,” you say, relief clear in your voice. You offer him a grateful smile.

“Don’t mention it,” he accepts. “Lock the doors and get some rest, you’ve more than earned it after what you went through.” You do as you’re told when he leaves your new apartment, turning the locks and deadbolt. Silence settles upon your new home as you’re left completely alone for the first time all night. The realization feels so foreign to you, as you remember how even at the LOV base, you were never truly left alone. There was always at least someone around you, some pair of eyes and ears attuned to you, preventing your escape. Despite how odd it feels, you press on and find your way to the bedroom. You immediately crawl into bed and fall asleep, still in your clothes, lacking the energy to even think about changing out of them. It’s when the bright light of the morning shines through your windows, waking you up, that you realize all your things were back at the LOV base.

In the light of the day and now refreshed from sleep, you take the time to explore your new flat. The apartment is neither extremely big or claustrophobically small, instead sitting at a nice medium between the two extremes. It seems mostly fitted with all the necessities. When you look in the closet, you even find there’s already a small selection of neutral clothes, ranging in size. You reason they must keep this place preemptively stocked for cases such as yourself.

You go about your morning, trying to ignore how odd it feels to be on your own for once. Going through the motions of showering, changing into comfortable clothes, and making breakfast seems to distract you from the feelings. When you’re out of things to add to your routine, you decide to turn on the news to understand what happened last night. The reporter goes over the major events of the hideout raid, most of which are things you already knew, though, both you and the public alike are left in the dark as to what those strange monsters were. Your knee bounces nervously upon just seeing those things again. The reporter then updates the public on what happened to Bakugo. You feel immense relief upon seeing the news reporter happily report that the UA student has been returned unharmed.

Your doorbell rings, tearing your attention away from the segment. Suspicious, you slowly walk to the door, peering through the peephole. Through the fish-eyed glass, you’re able to see a familiar shock of blonde hair and red wings waiting patiently at your step. You let out a relieved sigh and unlock the door to allow Hawks into your home.

“Heyo,” he greets. “How’s the new place treating you?”

“It’s nice, definitely beats staying at the hideout,” you answer. “Say, speaking of, will I be able to get anything back from there?”

“Yeah, about that, I have some bad news,” he starts. Hawks informs you that damage done to the LOV’s base meant that almost all of your belongings were destroyed. Not much was salvageable in the aftermath. Speaking of the aftermath, he warns you that the heroes have been unable to apprehend the league yet. Their current whereabouts are completely unknown. Despite this, Hawks assures you that it was unlikely the LOV should seek you out again, given the rationality that there are other healers out there and they were dealt a huge loss. You suppose it made sense, but you can’t shake the concern.

“So what does this all mean for me?” You ask.

“Well, until they’re found, you’ll have to stay here,” he explains.

“I guess that’s not so bad,” you accept. “This place is much closer to (campus/work) so my walk won’t be as bad.” He grimaces at your comment, clearly knowing something you don’t.

“No, you literally have to stay here. Unless it’s an emergency, you can’t leave. I’ll be dropping by to check in on you every few days though, so you won’t be completely alone, at least,” he clarifies. Your face drops at the information.

“Oh! Before I forget,” he adds, seemingly remembering something. He pulls a phone from his jacket pocket, one that looks extremely familiar. “I also managed to grab your phone from the evidence locker. The police took it from the scene of your disappearance. You can call your family or friends, let them know you’re alive. I’m sure they’ve been worried about you.” You accept your phone from his hand. Although your phone is dead, you’re sure there’ll be a million calls on your lock screen once it’s turned on.

“Yeah, I’m sure they have,” you agree, a bit solemnly.

“Just… don’t tell them where you are. It’d defeat the whole purpose of hiding you from the league, you know?” You nod, accepting those terms. It’s ironic, you think, how you were supposedly freed, yet you were not granted freedom. You were still locked away, prevented from leaving. Yes, you understood the rationale behind it, but that didn’t mean it erased the fact the situation felt eerily familiar.

Hawks would do regular check-ins. First a couple times a day, then once a day, until slowing down to every two days. When he had the time, he’d stay a little longer to talk and the two of you would hang out in your living room. You got to know the now number two hero fairly well from all those moments. The two of you mostly made small talk, though there were some moments in which you two seemed to genuinely laugh at some stupid joke or share the same opinions on a controversial topic. Sometimes, he’d ask about what your life in the league was like. You were (mostly) honest with him about it, telling him stories about your interactions with everyone. It was a bit fun to see his eyes widen in shock when you recounted some of the things you said to Shigaraki. He seemed a bit aghast to know you made such snarky comments and survived to tell the tale. But, you always were careful to conveniently leave out the details about Dabi. You weren’t sure what he, and the HPSC, would do if they heard you nearly made out with a wanted villain. Some things were better left unsaid.

When you weren’t accompanied by Hawks in your home, you’d spend your time distracting yourself rather than unpacking what happened. Without a therapist, you’d get nowhere. You’d rather bide your time rather than spiral into blaming yourself or justifying the league. You fear it has already begun with your cynicism towards the HPSC, which is why you desperately wish to talk to someone you can trust. Not only that, but your dreams were often about Dabi. Despite what he had done, you seem to still hold a fondness for him. You still desired him. These dreams confused you to no end, but you were never able to rationalize them. It was frustrating, to be locked away, supposedly in safety, but not even granted the ability to talk to a professional about what happened to you. The HPSC claimed due to the high-profile nature of this case, you’d have to wait until the LOV was in custody before you could begin your visits. They seemed to defend their actions by claiming a therapist leaking your case would draw attention to their investigation and endanger you by confirming where you are. Not only that, but they said the risk of Twice’s clones or Toga infiltrating your appointments was too high to justify.

Over time, the weeks of isolation slowly turned into a few months, the passage of time aided by endless distractions. You were starting to get in the swing of things. Being alone no longer felt as foreign, it was becoming natural again. Unfortunately, your whole routine was about to be disrupted. Unbeknownst to you, miles away in Deika City, Shigaraki begins plotting something. A plan to shake up the confidence of the hero commission, starting with you.

“The heroes took something from me. I need to teach them a lesson in stealing what is mine,” Shigaraki states to his lieutenants in the PLF army. “It’s time to return our healer.” And with his command, the plans are set in motion.

Hours later and back to your place, you hear a knock on your door. Figuring it must be Hawks, you shout from your kitchen, “Hold on, I’m coming!” You make your way to the foyer, not bothering to look through the peephole and open the door. Instead of meeting with Hawks, there’s another hero at your doorstep.

“You’re not who I was expecting,” you say, a bit suspiciously. “Normally someone else checks in on me, has this changed?”

“Oh, just for today. I’m just filling in. You know how busy us heroes are!” He answers.

“R-right, I suppose the hero lifestyle can get hectic,” You mumble. You still can’t shake your suspicion.

“H-hey, do you mind showing me your quirk? It’s part of the protocol, you know, to make sure there’s no imposters,” you lie.

“Oh, my bad! I must have missed that part of the report,” the hero apologizes. He buys your lie, which seems a bit suspect, but he shows you his quirk nonetheless. “Slidin’ Go, signature slide!” He slides on the floor, without resistance. Pretty useless quirk, in your opinion, but given how he can still use it, he’s not Toga. You doubt Twice could have obtained all the measurements of a hero that’s not declared missing, so there’s no concern in your mind it’s a clone. Relief washes over you and you wonder why you were so jumpy in the first place.

It’s safe.

You’re safe.

Everything is okay.

“You mind letting me in? Just need to do a check around, make sure you’re actually alone and all,” he requests. You suppose that’s what Hawks has been doing when he hangs over. It makes sense, but it stings to know the social contact you had was all due to a protocol.

“Oh, right, sorry. Come on in,” you agree. You open the door and allow him to enter inside. He looks around your apartment, walking from the entryway down the hall until he stops at your living room. Your (tea kettle/coffee maker) sounds off from your kitchen. The suddenness startles you momentarily. You shut the door behind you and pad past him down the hall. “Sorry, I was in the middle of making (tea/coffee). Just one moment,” you excuse, awkwardly.

“No worries, take your time. I’ll be in the living room while you do that!” He cheerily dismisses. You offer him a polite nod before trotting off to your kitchen, pouring your drink into a mug and carrying it with you.

When you return to the living room, you realize he’s nowhere to be seen. Concerning, but not enough to make you panic. What does make you start sweating is seeing puddles of a gray, clay-like substance on the carpet. Your stomach instantly drops, and your mug slips out of your hands, further sullying the carpet. You remember that conversation between Toga and Muscular, how Toga’s quirk leaves behind pale silt.

FUCK.

Since when could Toga use other quirks?!

You’re about to bolt for the door to attempt to run away when you feel arms gripping your waist. You look down and see no other than Toga.

‘Holy shit, she’s gotten so much stronger,’ you think, the realization stirring up a panic in you. You try to wriggle out of her grasp, but she just doesn’t budge. She quickly snakes one arm to the collar of her shirt and speaks into it.

“Mission accomplished!” She announces, to whom, you’re not quite sure. You’re not left with time to think about it, as you feel an odd sensation rise up your throat. Black sludge pours out of your mouth, enveloping you entirely in darkness. The sensation is nothing short of gross and uncomfortable. You’re thankful it doesn’t last for long, but when your lungs finally clear of the substance, you realize you’ve been transported somewhere completely unfamiliar to you.

“Looks like Toga managed to pull it off after all,” you hear a familiar, smoky voice drawl. The recognition is instant. Your body freezes and your eyes trail over to the source. You lock eyes with none other than Dabi. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, y/n?”

Your mouth feels dry, but you speak anyway. “It has.”

122 notes · View notes

witchthewriter · 1 year

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬' 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: this is definitely self-indulgence. There is BARELY anything for Musketeers, and I don’t know WHY. It was such a good show?! If you haven’t seen it, it’s on Stan (for Aussies).

Warnings: mention of racism, and the treatment of black people (I don’t want to trigger any of my readers)

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Is very proud to call you his partner. He’s just so honoured that you want to be with him, that it’s difficult not to talk about you.

“And she knows so much abou-”

“Yes! Porthos we know! Y/N is amazing, but please... just ... she’s all you ever talk about,” Aramis says with his arms in the air. (He’s not being dramatic, Porthos only talks about you, legitimately.)

・Was a bit wary about your work but warmed up to you once you explained it. To me, Porthos gives off a bit of Himbo energy™

・Whenever there’s danger, he protects you with his whole body

“Porthos, you’re squashing me-”

“Shhhh, there’s danger.”

・You get along really well with Aramis. He’s a lively and funny man, who likes to tell the most embarrassing stories of Porthos

・You give him things to take when he’s away on assignments. Lavender to help calm and to sleep, a bay leaf in his jacket pocket, and a satchet of cloves.

・He has a strong moral compass, and when the world gets too hard, he comes to you and falls apart. Porthos knows you’ll always be there to help put him back together again

・Knowing his background and where he came from. Enslavement and being a black man affects Porthos in his day to day life. You always want to hear if anyone has done anything to him. You will protect Porthos in every way you can.

・Porthos always makes you feel safe, protected, and he gives you the space to be yourself.

・You don’t hide anything from each other, and promise to be truthful. Secrets are what damage relationships.

・Porthos can change your mood in an instant. He brings you out of so many slumps

・He isn’t as energetic as Aramis (who hates being still), but Porthos still likes to have adventures. However, if you do not wish to, then he’s happy just spending his time at home with you

・Porthos gets angry about the injustices he sees in his day-to-day life. But that’s the only time you see his temper rise. He has never yelled at you, never. He’s never slammed anything, or expressed his anger in physical ways. He’s never even made you jump (well he has, but that’s because he surprised you by coming home early).

・He absolutely HATES spiders. Despises them. Thinks they’re creepy and will tell you to get rid of it.

・Likes to share his food with you - feeding you absentmindedly, especially when the food is really good.

・You never have to worry about Porthos straying. His loyalty is unending.

・Bit of a crybaby when he’s wounded (only in front of you though. When the guys are around, he doesn’t flinch.) But he loves being coddled by you.

・ You’re very good friends with Constance. She visits you often, especially when the men are away on an assignment. If they’re gone for multiple days, she may sleep over.

・It’s often you, who the men come to when they need fixing up. You can help with sleeplessness, headaches, stitching up wounds, to popping shoulders back into place.

・Your come from a low-class family, and doctors were too expensive, so all your neighbours either suffered or died. You wanted to help people, and so you learned as much as you could from anyone and everyone.

・Some say you’re a witch, because you know so much. Or maybe it’s because you learned a lot from women

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆:

All of them?

Porthos is such a loving man. He’s so ready for love, he was just waiting for you to come along.

𝐺𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔: He absolutely adores getting you gifts (he brings tokens back from his travels.

𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒: He loves spending all his free time with you, doing anything and everything; horseback riding, training, teaching you how to handle weapons (he always wants you to know as much as you can).

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛: He loves telling you how much you mean to him, and he melts whenever he hears it back. When he’s away from you and missing you, he’ll pull out one of your scarfs and smell it, remembering how much you love him.

𝐴𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑒: He will get you tools and supplies whenever you need it. Maybe he doesn’t know when you’re getting low, and you have to tell him, but he will go into town and fetch them willingly.

𝑃𝘩𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑇𝑜𝑢𝑐𝘩: Maybe this is his favourite love language. Porthos wants nothing in this world but you. To hold you in his arms, to play with your hair and smell your skin. He loves when you show him the same physical love back. The gentle caresses on his arm, the kisses, god, it’s all he needs in this world.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Wondrous Love by Bear McCreary

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

(Porthos gets more because ... god he fits into so many tropes and not a lot of characters do! Also because this is self-indulgent and Porthos is one of my all-time favourite characters.)

・Protective Gremlin x Giant Teddy Bear

・Height Difference

・Would Die For Each Other

・Emotional Support Animal In Human Form

・ Dumbass x Oh God I Guess That’s My Dumbass

・You fell first but they fall harder

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆:

Clueless Love

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞minors dni!

・Daddy kink, god, the first time you called him daddy ... he nearly came right then.

・Breeding kink - likes to fill you with his seed. If you fell pregnant, he would definitely have a lactation kink as well. Seeing your belly full and round ... god, it would drive him insane

・His favourite place to have sex, is in the kitchen. It’s close to the kitchen table, where he likes to bend you over and fuck you until you cry with pleasure

・Always leaves hickies on your tits. It’s his way of marking you, even though no one else will see.

・Is very giving but absolutely LOVES receiving head. If you gag on his cock, this man will cum nearly instantly.

・Very very very big cock. Nearly 10 inches when he’s hard

・Absolutely adores dirty talk. He wants to hear you say the nastiest things while he’s inside you

#porthos #porthos headcanons #porthos x reader #porthos bbc #porthos bbc headcanons #the musketeers #the musketeers headcanons #witch the writer #the three musketeers #the three musketeers headcanons #inclusive reader #healer reader #porthos x healer #porthos fanfiction #the musketeers fanfiction #bbc #bbc shows

74 notes · View notes

pinkykats-place · 2 years

Text

League of Villains x Reader

Ao3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked below are mine.

Some contain mature content, please read tags.

Most of the readers are written as female.

Note: If you read any of these works and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Healer Reader

Care

by Monokumas_egg_collection

(LOV x Doctor/Nurse!reader)

Summary: You are a doctor/nurse/medical staff going to visit the LOV since they ordered someone to help at the base for the day. In this fic, the reader encounters 5 very interesting characters.

Complete | 7 Chapters

OmegaVerse

Series: Pack of Villains by OmniNom

{4 Works}

#archive of our own #ao3 shigaraki x reader #ao3 fic rec #ao3 omega reader #league of villains #bnha x omega reader #alpha Dabi x omega Reader #alpha Shigaraki x omega Reader #fanfic recommendation #bnha recommendations #bnha fanfiction #league of villains x reader #league of villains x omega reader #reader has a healing quirk #healer reader #league of villains x healer reader #reader insert recommendation

165 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Text

A healer takes care of their stalker in a completely sane and normal way.

Yandere Stalker + Healer Reader Drabble

Summary: As the title says.

Warning: Violence and Injury, spit mentions, and themes of masochism.

They meet you at the batting cage - kust like your note said.

How their twisted heart flew seeing that little piece of paper tucked under your pillow. They always made an effort to act with caution, but it soon became apparent that you were fully aware of all activities taking place within your own home.

How could you not with all the love that they give? Words of endearment left on your bathroom wall. Fresh meals in your fridge. The best way into someone's heart is their stomach, and a greater way to know them better than anyone else is watching their every move. Considering you scheduled this encounter, you must be as enamored with them as they are obsessed with you.

That tiny heart at the end of your letter told them so.

You're alone in the field with they arrive. Muscles glimmering with sweat, eyes focus as you unleash heavy swing after swing into the unrelenting night. Your stalker came an hour early to arrange a surpise, but it seems you beat them to it. It didn't bring their spirits down by much. The rope could be used another time. You must still be in the middle of practice. They've never seen you on a team, but with your recent outings to this location you had to be searching. Your form has gotten well. Not to mention how intimating, yet graceful you look deep in focus. Everyone would look your way. Since you'll be married so, they wonder if they can get you to avoid seekingq depth this new found hobby.

Your arms fall to your sides as the door to the cage opens, hand relaxed around the metal handle. They make sure to shut the gate behind them.

"My love..."

"So... you're the person who's been stalking me?"

Your stalker tugs on the strings of their hoodie. Stalking is such a harsh word to use. How can one stalk the love of their life?

"I...Don't make such a harsh accusation, darling."

Your skin crawls. "Only reason you would be here now. Watching me sleep, harassing my neighbors...friends."

The devotion they've withheld bubbles over as they step towards you. "Everything I've ever done I do for you and our future, Dearest. I'm sorry for the way I've treated those we know, but they get too comfortable around you for my liking."

You let them talk, get closer - adding justification to what you are about to do. Your hand tightens around the bat's leather strap.

"Sweet angel, you're too perfect for your own good. I've tried before to stay away from you, but I struggle to breath if I am not by your side."

They draw closer. You can smell their clothes and the scent they wear. The same fragrance that has haunted your home and bed for months. Your other hand wraps around the bat, feet and shoulders squared.

"So yes, I have watch you, but I have never nor would ever caused you harm. I need you more than life itself. From your letter, you feel the same, no? Let's become one-"

They've crossed the line. Literally. Their fingers brush your elbow as their arms rise, feet planting on the mark you drew in the sand before they arrived. It's too late for them to realize yours were already clocked back and swinging forward as they dive for an embrace that would never could. There's the sharp whistle of metal flying through the air, followed by a hollow, wet thud - then silence.

"I had to buy a lock for my trashcan because of you."

Everything is dark. They can barely hear; muffled rants of your angelic voice grounding them in a gradually fading reality. The bat connected directly with their left temple, rattling their bludgeoned brain in their skull and leaving them concussed on the dirt floor. Their heart beats in tune with each gush of blood out of side of their head, hairline dyed a deep maroon.

"D-dar...."

Bleeding out, they still call to you. Still desperate for you - the person who's made an attempt on their life. Like most they feared the end, but if this was how it came they could see no exectioner they'd prefer. The memory of their battered body and crimson blood would forever been engraved in your memory. There was no honor creator than that. Scowling, you kick their hand off your shoe and drag themself onto their knees by their hair.

"I'm not going to kill you. Stay still."

Collecting a mass of fluid on your tongue, you spit in their face. The shot narrowly missing their eye and gets into the wound. They twitch, tongue drooping from their mouth from pain and the need to collect the excess drool mixed into the trickle of red down their cheek. A wave of relief overcomes them as your saliva mixes into their blood stream. The gash in their head closes in on itself and the brain numbing headache throbs to extinction. Its effect lingers and they stare up at you in puzzled awe.

What just happened?

"Don't say a word. You don't get to speak, or ask any questions. If you come near me again, I'll bash your brains in until there's nothing for me to fix."

You roughly drop them on the ground, gather your things, and leave. Your stalker stares up at the sky; love born anew and stronger than before. You let them live. You really are an angel. How ever would they leave you alone now?

#Healer reader #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere blurb #sub yandere #yandere x darling #yandere drabble

589 notes · View notes

phonkscribes · 2 years

Note

Can I request some Headcanons of Hanzo staying/being helped rehabilitated with the healer idea you got awhile back, the reader trying to help him recover but things just feel off about them

Tainted Waters

He recalls passing through a clearing, away from the pagodas and structures where his enemies sought his head. The archer's vision was blurred, murky by exhaustion as he did his best to get away. The shouting of the men echoed from the trees as he tried to urge himself forward, just as he's always done. Human limbs ache as he drags himself weakly, unaware of the other who was watching him begin to succumb to his own misery business. In the moments that he stands, a shadow drapes itself over his own, causing him to jerk around with his bow in hand with an arrow slotted through the string.

An assassin?

Before he can let that arrow fly, they're already in his face. A hand as swift as his own finds his neck, and after that... everything fades. This is not the end, even as he thinks it to be; which is why he's thoroughly confused as to why he finds himself in a bed of another and being taken care of.

When he wakes up, one of your little helper's startles, and runs to get you. Which just confuses Hanzo further.

Really just what the hell was going on here? He didn't have time to rest or sit around in bed all day when there was still so much for him to do.

As the door closes, he's quick to rise and pull himself out of bed. Luckily, you're quick to appear, slipping in through the door without so much as a sound.

"Ah... good, you're awake"

Your voice is silk against his ears, but does well to keep him paranoid. He jumps, and turns to face you too quickly, looking for his weapon of choice and his quiver of arrows.

"Who are you and what do you want from me?", he fires at you straight away, understandably. He's been essentially kidnapped here, not knowing he'd been saved from an early fate.

You're patient even as he gestures at you accusingly, like you'd done something wrong.

You could liken him to a feral cat, hissing at the person who took it in. How cute.

After explaining his situation to him, he doesn't quite settle down but tries to say that he's quite fine and ready to leave... the pain in his side says otherwise.

Whether he likes it or not, he's going to have to stay, if not for a short while until he's able to get back on his feet again.

It's a liability to him, one of the very few times where he's ever felt so vulnerable. It'll be hard to trust you even if you've just saved his life.

Strangely, in spite of staying at your estate, you're never to be seen or found. Even when asked about by your servants, they only ever say nice things and say that this is a common occurrence.

It only builds to your mysterious nature as he walks around to investigate his surroundings better. A part of him feels shame, because it is as they say. You've only ever tried to help him recover and here he was trying to find out more about you.

When you finally do happen upon Hanzo, you accidentally scare him, not that you meant to but he just happened to be deep in thought about something.

He's never been an anxious man, one that's certain about things and sure of what he has to do unlike his brother, but in your presence he can't help but to sense that there's something more to you. Something that isn't quite right.

You run your examinations on him, to which tells you everything you need to know about the man.

Has he ever heard of self-care because, goodness... he's in a worse state than what the surface tells you.

A longer stay is required, much to his dismay.

You want to be sure that he won't fall back into his bad habits.

It isn't easy to just give up on them either, and you'd know this best.

That's why he needs someone to be there for him, if he's not going to be there for himself.

To celebrate his journey to getting well again, you've prepared a grand feast yourself, with plenty of vegetables for his immune system and vitamins to help him get back onto his feet.

The scents are mouth watering, and watching you beckon him over to your side to eat tugged at his heart strings.

It's all so familiar, so nostalgic that he can't help but to awkwardly sit down and take up a plate of his own to eat.

It'd been too long since he's had something like this, sharing it with someone without the fear of what hangs over his head.

"It's... delicious", he says, but you can feel how he says it.

Your hand, rough and warm places itself on his shoulder

"Eat as much as you'd like then, get stronger Hanzo"

He can't shake off the gentle feelings stirring in his chest, but he cannot shake off the way that your palm scratches his skin either.

There's so much he doesn't know yet, so much more that he wants to know, but he isn't sure how to go about it.

As the night ends, he lingers, waiting to catch you when you're alone to talk

Right as he goes to seek you out, you happen to find him again, only he doesn't spook as bad as he had the first time.

"You seem to keep looking for me, Hanzo. Is there anything you need?"

"H- what gives that away?"

To which you smile, pointing to the dragon tattoo on his shoulder.

"I have my... sources", you answer much to his surprise.

#your letter has been received #phonk scribes #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagines #hanzo shimada x reader #hanzo shimada imagines #gender neutral reader #healer reader #[ the title makes sense to me i swear ]#[ hope you enjoyed this for how long it took to write it :(( sorry for the hold up! ]

113 notes · View notes

omgidkwhattodo · 2 years

Text

hello, can u please help me find this one fanfic about a keigo x reader? It was angst but it had a good fluff or ending. It was a fanfic about keigo losing his wings after the fight with dabi and him being overly rude to the reader because no one can fix his wings and he's super upset about it and then later on shows that the reader has actually had a super weak healing quirk that hawks thought she was quirkless and she used her quirk a lot that strained her body and hiding that to hawks and also slowly healing his wings and later on reader fainted from using too much of their quirk because of how weak it is? And then hawks finding out and then being upset and later on him also being happy later cause he got his wings back :D. Idk that's what I remembered it was so good :D

#keigo x reader #keigo fluff #Healer reader #weak reader #keigo angst

19 notes · View notes

azrielbrainrot · 3 months

Text

Such a Perfect Place To Start

Azriel x Healer!Reader

Description: Something happens that has you questioning the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3911

Notes: When I started writing this I didn't think it was going to lead to that. Hope you like it!

part of the healer!reader universe

When you were called to the House of Wind so urgently by the High Lady herself you were expecting a more pressing matter, a life or death situation like you're used to, not exactly a library full of books. You don't know how long you've been sitting in this chair but you couldn't feel your butt anymore, no matter how many different positions you tried to sit in. You were used to doing some research while studying new healing techniques or herbs but these millenia old books on magical symbols were a little different.

There had been some attacks across the Night Court, including in the mountains surrounding Velaris, with some pretty disturbing details. After being killed, the victims' eyes had been removed and a symbol had been carved into their chests. All the symbols were different and, at this time, their meaning was still unknown. Unfortunately, none of the victims had survived either so there weren't any witnesses and, even after Azriel's thorough investigations, there was no evidence left behind by the culprits. It was as if no one had even been there.

You had heard some rumors about this before getting called in. Gossip spread around fast in Velaris and, even with the Inner Circle's efforts to keep panic to a minimum, people had found out about some of the details. The area around Velaris is relatively safe so to have multiple killings in a short time and in such gruesome ways was causing a bit of a fearful atmosphere to fall upon the city of dreamers. The increase in security wasn't easily missed either.

After being summoned to the River House, Feyre and Rhysand had briefed you on everything they knew and asked you for your help, seeing as they could only trust a few select people. Since there were no other clues left behind besides the symbols, the High Lord decided that, for now, everyone should focus on finding their meaning, so he sent his most trusted people to his private library to look through every book that might help.

You had obviously felt incredibly honored and happy that they trusted you this much. You've been getting closer to the inner circle after your talk with Azriel a few months ago, and sometimes still feared your friendships were a bit one sided.

As honored as you felt that they trusted you, though, you had spent days searching through old books just to come up empty. It was more tiring than a week at a war healing tent. Not to mention having to do so by Amren's side. You had no personal problems with the newly turned high fae but she still scared you profusely. Your power gave you a sense of people's aura and hers had always felt unsettling at best, even after getting turned.

At least, you weren't alone with her, everyone in the Inner Circle and some of the Valkyries had shown up at the library to help at some point. There was no way of knowing who could be behind these attacks and, from what you gathered, these fae had been moving across the court too easily, meaning they could be from the night court or even Velaris, so you couldn't involve the priestesses in the library.

The sky was already completely dark outside, making way for the millions of stars to shine in the sky. The atmosphere was a little too quiet for this time of night, usually there would still be fae walking around the city, in and out of bars and theaters. Amren had already left. The ancient one had tucked a book under her arm and walked out without much of a goodbye, leaving you with Feyre and Azriel in the library.

“I think it's time to stop for the day,” your High Lady's voice cut through the silence suddenly, “Rhys just finished at the office too.” Sometimes you envied how convenient the daematis abilities were. As her eyes glaze over and a smirk threatens to play at her lips, you know her mate is giving her a good reason to go home.

“I'll stay a bit longer,” you hold your finger over the passage you were reading, these old books had tiny fonts and you'd already lost yourself in enough of them to know better now, “I have to go to the clinic tomorrow so I wanted to at least finish this book.” There were only about half a dozen pages left of it so, even if your body was screaming at you to go to bed, you wanted to get this done first.

“Alright,” the High Lady adds her last book to the pile and looks at you one more time, “Don't stay too long. We need you to be focused at the clinic.” Her eyes shift to the shadowsinger and narrow slightly, her tone a little sterner, “You too, Az. Get some sleep.”

The spymaster nods dutifully at his friend's warning and she seems content enough with the response or in enough hurry to meet her mate, as she gives you both one last smile and turns to the door, saying one last goodbye over her shoulder.

Azriel stayed with you, even though his book had just started and there was no way he would finish it tonight. You were torn between thinking it was because he didn't trust you in the House by yourself, as the ever protective spymaster, and just writing it off as his willingness to help his court even at the risk of his own health and comfort, you don't even wanna think how many sleepless nights the spymaster has spent working lately.

You shake off your thoughts and keep reading the boring book. The sooner you finish the sooner you can go to sleep. Even your healing abilities can't do much to fight the headache you were feeling after spending the whole day reading symbols and their uses in dark magic, some of the rituals described were also making your stomach queasy.

Just as you're about to finish the last page, you hear a soft groan coming from Azriel and can't help but look up at him. His head was thrown back, showing off the column of his neck. His eyes were closed tight like he was fighting the same headache as you. With his wings stretched as far as they could go, it looked like they were taking up most of the private library, not that it was a small room by any means.

The spymaster looked exhausted. He's been spending his days meeting up with his spies and informants all around Prythian, trying to find any information on the attackers and investigating any strange movement in the court. At night, he comes home and joins you in the library to help with research, sometimes even staying up later than everyone else. You know he will do the same thing tomorrow and the day after, until you find any relevant clues and catch the killers.

Azriel takes these things more personally than maybe even the High Lord and Lady. His job as spymaster is finding any threats to the court after all, preferably before they happen. You know he must feel like he's failing his court and you wish you could show him that he's doing more than enough, that it's not his fault. Under the tough exterior and immense power, Azriel has an extremely kind soul, you've felt it. He'd make the impossible happen if it meant he could protect his court, his family, even if it cost him his own life.

“You should go to sleep,” you can't help but worry for him, “You were out all day before you came here. You must be really tired.”

You wonder how long it's been since he's had a good night of sleep. Even before this situation, it was no secret that the shadowsinger was a bit of an insomniac. You had given him a few sleeping tonics before in hopes of helping him have at least a few moments of peace.

“I'll wait for you,” he tells you, meeting your eyes. You can see the fatigue swirling around in his unguarded gaze, it seems you had been right to assume he hasn't been sleeping. “You're almost done.”

You look back down at your book and wonder how he's been keeping track of what you've been doing while reading his own book. Still, if finishing this means Azriel can go to sleep, you'll do it as fast as you can. Reading through the last page intently to make sure nothing escapes you.

Just as you're about to finish you make a silent request to the House, and two steaming cups of tea appear in front of each of you. Passionflower tea to lessen his stress and help with sleep, you've given it to him before and he told you it helped so you hope it does the trick once again.

Since you're focused on the book, you miss the way his eyes finally stray from your form to look down at the tea now sitting in front of him. You also miss the smile on his face when he reaches for it and the way his shadows let him know you were the one who asked for it, gushing about how you took care of their master.

“Do you still not trust me, Spymaster?” You close the book and put it into the ever growing pile. Stretching a bit before taking your tea into your hands and blowing on it gently.

“I trust you with my life, sweetheart.” The seriousness in his statement makes you pause with the cup halfway to your lips for a moment. You didn't need the Morrigan's gift to know he was telling the truth. The nickname takes a little longer to register but as soon as it does color rushes to your cheeks.

“Then why wait for me?” You hadn't actually thought he didn't trust you in the library but you still weren't sure why he had stayed behind after Feyre left.

“Wanted to keep you company until you finished,” he shrugged. His voice is a little gravely with sleep which is a big problem for the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach. “We've been spending a lot of time together but we've barely talked.”

He wants to talk to you. You can't help the smile or the giddy feeling washing over you. He's tired but he chose to stay up a little longer to do something as trivial as talking to you.

“What did you want to talk about then?” The way he's picking at the painted decorations in his teacup makes you think he might be feeling a little nervous but you're not sure why.

“Anything you want,” he answered a little too fast. Maybe it's the low lights in the room but you swear there's some color dusting his cheeks.

“It's hard to pick a topic like that,” you say before biting your lip slightly. For some reason you suddenly feel a little pressure to come up with a good topic, not wanting to disappoint or bore him. “Lately, all I can think about is this,” you run your finger over one of the books' spines, “It's hard to focus on anything else after spending hours in here.”

“If you feel like this is too much you can tell me. I'll talk to Rhys and he'll send you back to the clinic,” he frowns. His shadows reach a little towards you, as if wanting to comfort you. You didn't mean to worry him.

“That's not what I meant,” you start, “I want to help. I've just never dealt with anything like this. I've been to war but this… killing innocent fae in such a disturbing way is different.”

“I understand,” he nods, “If you need anything you can tell me. Even if you just want to talk.”

“Alright.” Azriel has a way of talking that leaves you not knowing how to respond sometimes. He's so sincere in what he says that you almost feel like any response would fall short. “You too. If you need help with anything I'm always here for you.”

He gives you a single nod before hiding what looked like a bashful smile behind his tea. You finish your teas like this, enjoying each other's company in the quiet of the night.

You can't hold back a yawn when you set your teacup down. As much as you'd love to stay up talking to Azriel all night, your body is about ready to crash on you.

“We should go to sleep,” he says as he stands up, making the teacups disappear. “You have to be at the clinic early.”

“You're right,” you agree with a sigh, standing up to follow him to the door. You've only been going to the clinic twice a week ever since Feyre asked for your help with this case so you know you'll have a long day ahead of you. “Will you fly me down tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he tells you as he opens the door for you, “What kind of male would I be if I let our favorite healer walk down the thousands of steps by herself?”

“Favorite? I'll tell Madja you said that,” you point your finger at him playfully.

“Second favorite then,” he takes it back with a wink, making you laugh. The smile lingers on your face all the way to the guest room you're staying in and it only deepens when you realize he walked you all the way to your door.

You turn and look up at him expectantly. It looks like he wants to tell you something with the way he's searching your face and his shadows pool at both of your feet. If you didn't know any better you'd think they wanted to crawl up your legs. You've found that they can give some of Azriel's emotions away sometimes, when he doesn't have a grip on them at least.

Your body doesn't react when he bends down slowly, pausing for a brief moment before kissing your cheek softly, murmuring a good night against your skin. It doesn't react after either, when he pulls back to watch your reaction. In fact, it's not until he walks over to his door and lets out a small chuckle, that you finally move and almost crash into the room, fumbling with the doorknob and slamming the door behind you.

As you lean your back against the door, you put your hand over your chest and stare wide eyed at the window across the room. You almost thought you were imagining things. He can probably hear your heart beating all the way in his room across the hall, you wouldn't be surprised if everyone in Velaris could hear with how loud it's beating. You let yourself slide against the door until you're crouching.

You hadn't expected him to kiss you. You know Azriel isn't one for a lot of physical touch. You've only gotten a hug out of him once, during the war after an attack on the healer's tent. He had thought you were dead then, after watching so many die he'd just been glad to see someone he knows still breathing. Actually, you might have been the one to hug him first. You had never been so close to death and were scared out of your mind. It was your first war after all.

You and Azriel had been getting closer over the months, closer than you were with the rest of Inner Circle. Even before your talk that night, he's always been friendly to you, but the shadowsinger was kind to all the healers - to everyone that wasn't his enemy really - so you never thought much of it. But this felt different. Tonight felt different.

You hadn't fully admitted it to yourself yet but the more time you spent with the shadowsinger the more your crush evolved. What had once been a silly crush based on appearance and his kind nature had quickly turned into palpable feelings. You liked him. A lot.

However, acknowledging this could destroy the friendship you had built with him for the past few months, maybe with the rest of his family as well. That's what you thought before at least. You assumed Azriel would never have feelings for you. The idea seemed so preposterous it never even crossed your mind, but now you're not so sure.

Maybe it seemed like you were exaggerating to think this after a little kiss, on the cheek no less, but this kiss made you think back on the last months you've spent with Azriel. He's been insisting on flying you up and down the stairs every time he's around, usually this task would be left to Cassian, who loved showing off his wings to you.

He's been going to the clinic more often too, stocking up on anything he can think of when he's never done that in the century you've been working in Velaris. Azriel was always one to not think much of his own health, it bothered you to no end. He also came to you with every injury. Usually when a member of the Inner Circle was hurt, Madja was the one who was called. You'd only accompany her if she needed assistance or go in her place if she wasn't able to go herself. Of course over the years they'd come to use you more and more, which is why you didn't even think of it, but looking back now… You don't know what to think anymore.

Getting up with a sigh, you make your way to your closet to change. Your thoughts consume you while you get ready for bed but your tiring day catches up to you as soon as your head hits the pillow. However, this doesn't spare you from dreaming of a certain shadowsinger.

You take longer to wake up than usual, making you hurry through your morning routine. Your body isn't used to the schedule you've been putting it through lately, and it's starting to show. But because of this, it isn't until you go to open the door to the guest room that you remember Azriel is going to fly you down to the clinic. And the incident that had you spiraling before going to sleep.

Deciding walking down the steps by yourself isn't a viable option, you go to find him and pray to the Mother things aren't too awkward between you. It had just been a little kiss on the cheek and your lack of reaction could totally be blamed on the long day, your brain was just having trouble catching up, that's all. It had been a completely normal exchange between friends, not that you're blushing just thinking about it or anything. You could just pretend it didn't happen.

As you make your way to the front door, the shadows dancing around in the hallway catch your eye instantly. You've seen them do this before, when Azriel doesn't need them and they don't want to brave the light, they just linger around the room in curious little wisps. You can't help the smile as they gravitate slowly towards you.

Right after they notice you, their master appears through the door. One of them must have warned him of your arrival, they're so cute sometimes you forget they're spies. Of course they'd tell on you.

“Good morning,” he greets. Azriel may be a shadowsinger but he looks breathtaking in the morning light. His skin glows beautifully and his eyes look a little lighter, it makes him look younger. Gods, how can he be so beautiful?

He looks a little relieved to see you. Maybe he thought you'd escape by yourself or ask someone else to fly you to the clinic to avoid him. It makes you feel a little bad that you had him worried but it's his own fault for playing with your heart like that.

“Good morning,” you smile, walking up to him. “Are you ready?”

“I was just waiting for you,” he says as he extends a hand for you to take. This has the nerves already lingering inside your body make themselves more noticeable. You almost forgot flying you down means he'll have to carry you. It had taken a while for you to get used to not only the flying but also the way he had to hold you - funny how you never had this problem with Cassian.

You take his hand and try not to move too much or gasp as he picks you up off the floor like you weigh nothing. He immediately starts walking to the edge of the stairs, holding you close to his chest.

“Hold onto me,” he breathes into your ear, extending his wings and getting ready to take flight. You do as he says and wrap your arms tighter around his neck, praying he can't feel your heart beat inside your chest.

You'll never get over how stunning Velaris looks from above or how the wind passes around you as you soar through the clouds. It's a real shame that you weren't born with wings. You understand why Illyrians are so protective of them, after knowing what this feels like, it's hard to imagine never being able to do it again.

“You know I won't drop you.” You look away from the landscape and meet his gaze. He can probably feel how tense you are but you can't tell him it has nothing to do with the height or any fear of him letting you fall.

“I know,” you assure. “What would you do without your favorite healer?” He lets out a small laugh in response and your body finally relaxes.

The flight doesn't take long, and, before you know it, he's landing right outside your clinic. He helps you get down and even holds onto you a little longer, giving you a once over to make sure you're steady on your feet.

An idea passes through your mind and you bite your lip, wondering if you'd truly lost it. You take a quick look around before you lose your nerve. It was still early enough that the streets were almost deserted, no one should see you.

Turning back to the shadowsinger, you hesitate again when you notice him watching you, probably wondering what you were up to. If you read the situation wrong this could make things very awkward for the two of you.

Deciding not to let your anxiety reign your life, you grab his shoulder gently so you can pull him a little closer to your height. Standing on your tiptoes to clear the rest of your height difference. You hold onto his cheek and place a soft kiss on the other side of his face, murmuring a “thank you”.

You step back again and look up at him, still slightly bent from where you pulled him to you and looking at your face with wide eyes. You're not sure if you've ever seen the feared spymaster so caught off guard before. There was a small smile playing at his lips though, so you assume you hadn't completely misread the situation. You can't help but form a grin of your own and turn around to go inside the clinic, leaving him behind just as he did to you last night. Your heart soaring higher than you had just been.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #divider by saradika #healer!reader

972 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 2 months

Note

does viking!soap have an arm ring?

just imagining healer!reader somehow in a situation where soap's hand is pressed flat on the surface she's leaning on. totally not eyeing the veins trailing down his arm, they focus instead on the intricate design. maybe it's a remaining family heirloom or a gift after his first voyage... you know definitely not something he's hoped and imagined about passing on to any future children or anything like that

Viking!Soap has integrated into viking culture fairly well since [redacted] of course he has an arm ring. I think he probably got it after his first voyage with the 141, a gift from his new family meant to tie him to something again. I imagine there are very few things Soap was able to keep from his life in Scotland.

You're starting to spend more time than you mean to looking at Mactavish's arms. The thick flexing biceps and veins that trace over his forearms, usually hidden by long sleeves and his cloak, now on full display in the heat of summer. He ties his hair back as well, but that you can handle, it's the new skin you're having trouble with. The skin and the attitude. He seems emboldened by the warm weather, boxing you against doorways, leaning close, murmuring in that delicious low rumble that makes your skin prickle with heat. You've told him to stop, but as usual your wants go unnoticed.

That's really when you notice it: the thick metal band that circles his bicep. You'd caught flashes of it during the winter when it sat tighter, though still loose, around his wrist, hidden under his sleeves. Now it's hard to miss.

Mactavish leans against your table, chattering away, his arms crossed over his chest while you ignore him. It never seems to make him leave. His arm ring draws your eye and you let your eyes trace the silver twists, trying to decipher the heads at the ends while he talks. After a moment Mactavishes fingers find the band and rub over it.

"Huginn and Muninn," he says. You look up at him in confusion and he laughs. He slips the ring down his arm and holds it out to you to look over. "Odin's ravens. The travel the world, learn things, the um-" he pauses, you don't know Mactavish to pause often, "Price gave it to me, after my first expedition. Supposed to keep me comin' home."

You trace your fingers over the metal beaks of the ravens, turning the band over in your hands before handing it back. "It's pretty," you don't know what else to say. Mactavish holds it carefully, looks at it like it's something important. You suppose it must be. To you it's just a nice piece of metal, but you're not a viking.

"Yeah," he says, slipping it back up his arm, "It'll go to my boy one day."

"Oh," you don't know why it makes your stomach drop to hear him talk about his child, "I thought Gaz was thr only one with a child."

Mactavish makes an inquisitive noise, his fingers tight around the band. "He is, but I'd like children some day," you glance up, meet his eye, he tilts his head, "don't you?"

You clench your fists and turn you attention back to your work, tamp down the fluttering in your heart. "No," you tell him firmly, try to push purpose to the edge in your voice, "not here, not with any of you."

Mactavish hums. He does that when you do this, when you show your teeth. You never know what it means, never have the courage to look at him, to try and read what he's feeling. If you did you might see the hurt in his eyes. "I know, Vænn," he tells you quietly, "it's all my fault."

You clench your fists tight, dig your nails into your palms and clench your teeth. It doesn't work. You hatred and grief won't work if he sounds like that, if he pushes off your table and leaves before you can find the courage to snap at him. You hate him. You hate how unsettled your stomach gets at his words, hate the nausea, and the spiderweb feeling in your chest. It is his fault.

So why can't you stand to hear him say it?

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #viking!soap #highlander!reader #healer!reader

524 notes · View notes

dorabledewdroop · 2 months

Text

The White Healer Series Masterlist

summary: What happens when y/n gets the power to heal both herself and others, even from the brink of death?

Warnings: Detailed violence, detailed injuries, smut, angst fluff.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff smut #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #The White Healer #wandanat smut

330 notes · View notes

mika-writes-fanfics · 1 year

Text

Healing Touch

Dabi x Fem!Reader fan fiction

Warnings/Tags: mention of blood, Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, female/afab reader, healing quirk, sexual tension w Dabi, implication of non-con (not by Dabi), Muscular is a creep, Dabi gets a new fit, aftermath of UA training arc

Author's Note: TIME FOR SEXUAL TENSION. All my homies hate Muscular, FUCK him. He gave me bad vibes during the UA training arc, so I’m trashing on his character. Handing Dabi a few W's before he gets couple L's. Also I'm feeding you guys a long chapter so buckle the fuck up. Warning: Muscular is a creep and implies noncon.

Word Count: 7.8K

Link to AO3

Chapter Seven: I Really Hate This Guy

You ended up recovering just fine after eating and sleeping your dizzy spell off. By the next day, it was as if nothing had happened at all. As far as you were concerned, nothing did really happen. Your memory of the incident was fuzzy. You knew that you pushed yourself too far and fainted for a moment, but what came afterwards was a complete blur. It must not have been too much of a disaster, considering you awoke in your bed without any bruises. You reason you must have simply fallen into your bed. You just hope you didn’t cause Dabi any trouble. Little did you know that Dabi was the one who caught you, brought you snacks, and made sure you were okay before leaving you to rest.

Your morning goes by quietly as you freshen yourself up in the bathroom. There’s not a sound in the other rooms, meaning the others are either still asleep or away on missions. With your morning routine done, you exit the bathroom and enter the hallway. As you are heading to your room, you notice Toga’s door is cracked open. Curiously, you creep forward to her door and quietly swing the door wider. The hinges softly groan, causing you to hold your breath and cringe. But when you release your breath and press on, you notice that it’s empty. She must be out on a mission. You swallow thickly, feeling some anxiety rising within you. Now is the perfect time to snatch a knife. You glance over your shoulders, checking to make sure the hallway is clear. If you’re gonna go through with this, you can’t have any witnesses. When you realize the hallway is clear, you make your move. You quickly, but quietly, stride over to Toga’s desk and pick out the smallest switchblade you see. Your heartbeat patters in your ears and your hands shake as you take the knife and tuck it into your waistband. Not wanting to risk being seen and questioned, you make your leave, immediately heading straight to your room.

You relax a bit once the door is shut behind you. The hard part is over, the next step is to hide it away. You let your back rest against the door as you chew your lip and weigh your options. As far as you’re aware, no one except Dabi or Toga have ever set foot into your room. Which means, almost any place that’s out of plain sight and hard to quickly get to would be a good place. After a few more moments of contemplating, you settle on a discrete location and stow it away. You hope you’re now one step closer to freedom.

You steady your wildly beating heart by taking a few breaths, assuring yourself the stashed knife would not be found. It’s important you get your emotions under control, your shaking hands and nervous demeanor would raise suspicions, should you let them show. You’re unsure of how many minutes have passed before you finally calm yourself. What you do know, however, is that you’re fucking starving. It’s time for you to head downstairs.

You leave your room and quietly make your way to the kitchen, checking to see if the bar is empty along the way. Despite how quiet the base is today, you’re definitely not alone, as your eyes catch a glimpse of Shigaraki and Mr.Compress conversing together in the bar. Looks like your escape route is guarded again, not that you’d have any way out anyways. You expected as much, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less disappointing. Still, you have to hold onto hope that someday they will slip up, either by allowing you enough time to attempt at picking the lock, or being stupid enough to leave a key behind. You’re not sure how likely that is though, given how most of them warp in rather than using the front door anyways.

You move on from the bar and onto the kitchen. The cupboards are surprisingly well-stocked, despite Shigaraki seemingly not generating much income. Villainy doesn’t normally pay the bills very well, after all. You wonder if there’s a mysterious benefactor helping the LOV behind the scenes. Whatever the case is, you certainly don’t mind if it means you get to eat. You fix yourself a quick breakfast and eat in peace, feeling partially amazed by just how mundane your day is going so far. This has to be the most boring day you’ve experienced in captivity.

You’re premature in your thoughts as the semblance of tranquility is shattered by a commotion in the other room. Judging by the voices, it seems the others are back from their mission. When there’s a mission, there are usually injuries too. You wash your empty bowl in the sink and head to your room, figuring that they’ll be looking for you there. As you head to the stairs, you meet Dabi in the halls.

“I’m assuming you’re back from some sort of mission?” You ask him.

“Yep,” he confirms.

“Any injuries?”

“Not this time, it was just recon work.”

“Looks like your staples got snagged though,” you point out. His fingers shoot to his face, touching the area and then feeling the blood stain his fingers. “It looks like they’ll need to be replaced.”

“Yeah, seems like it,” He agrees. “Didn’t you mention once that you had some?”

“They’re in the first aid kit,” you verify.

“You mind bringing them over to my room?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You leave to fetch the necessary medical supplies, digging through what you have in your kit. Although he didn’t outright request it, you grab disinfectant, gauze, and a medical stapler. You never really paid it much mind, but through your sifting, you notice he gave you equipment that goes well beyond amateur first aid. There are even suturing tools and nylon threads. But conveniently, nothing you could use to your advantage.

‘Where does Shigaraki even get all this stuff,’ you wonder. It’s weird, you think, how Shigaraki managed to get his hands on professional medical equipment. You think back to those sets of locked doors and the hospital-like smell you saw, once before. There’s gotta be something weird behind those doors, to warrant Shigaraki’s secrecy and for him to have all these medical supplies.

Not wanting to keep Dabi waiting any longer, you shake the thoughts from your head and scoop up the necessary supplies. You head over to Dabi’s room and knock on the door. He calls for you to come in and you oblige, opening the door and shutting it behind you. You realize just how different his room looks in the light, as when you helped him to his room that night, everything was shrouded in darkness. You’re able to see just how bare his room is. There’s not many personal belongings in his room. In fact, his room isn’t much different than what yours looked like when you first arrived. Though, there is one thing he added.

You didn’t notice that one night, but there’s a mirror on his dresser, likely for this very reason. He leans over and looks into his reflection, eyes focusing on the bent staples. Unceremoniously, he yanks out the staples and then holds the area together with his free hand. You can’t help but stare at the scene, mouth agape. It’s no wonder Shigaraki wanted a healer, this man is incredibly wreckless with his personal health.

“You should really disinfect that first,” you chide.

He shrugs. “Kinda hard to do with just one hand, I’ll pass.”

You sigh and twist off the cap from the disinfectant, pouring it onto a gauze. Looks like you’ll just have to take it upon yourself to clean the wound. You sidle up to him and snake your arm in between his. Your hand replaces his and supports his cheek. He lets you take over and watches your movements through the mirror as you dab the area with the gauze.

“There, that should do it. Can you hold this again for me? I’ll get the stapler,” you request. Your hand brushes his as he holds himself together once more. You retract from his space, walking over to toss the sullied gauze into the trash before retrieving the stapler. It’s when you go to approach him again that nervousness starts to settle in your mind. Wait, how the fuck do you do this? You’ve never really done this before. Inserting staples is where your medical knowledge tapers off. He seems to notice your uncertainty, as he motions for you to hand over the staples. You oblige, feeling a bit relieved. Inserting staples is not something you’re entirely familiar with. Given the state of his body, he’s much more accustomed to it than you are. He uses the stapler and rejoins the flesh without a wince.

“Do you have any burns today?” You ask. He shakes his head.

“No, I didn’t use my quirk,” he explains. “Wouldn’t mind you taking care of this, though.” He gestures to the scar underneath his eye, the same one that just got the staples replaced.

“Yeah, sure thing,” you agree. You figured he might ask such a thing, it seemed painful.

“You’re always standing when we do this. Here, sit,” he encourages, tapping on his desk nearby. You suppose he’s right, but you wonder what warranted such thoughts. You’d hate for this to be the case, but you wonder if it has anything to do with your fainting yesterday. With no other place to sit except his bed, you acquiesce to his request and hop onto the desk. He stands in front of you and you notice it’s a bit hard to reach his face without bending forward awkwardly, on account of your thighs getting in the way. You part your thighs to make it easier, allowing him the space to come closer.

His hands are splayed on either side of your thighs, bearing some of his weight as he leans down to your level. You try to focus on the task at hand, attempting to avoid thinking too deeply on how his hips feel in between your thighs. It’s proving to be a hard task. You try to steady your breath before your hand touches his face, beginning the healing process on the skin.

His warm fingers deftly brush against the skin of your thighs. The featherlight contact pulls a slight shudder and quiet gasp out of you. He must notice this as he lets out a light-hearted, airy chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’re cold already,” he teases. Your skin erupts into goosebumps, obviously felt under Dabi’s fingers. His voice takes on a more husky tone when he speaks again, “Do I have to warm you up so soon?”

You’re not sure if he means to, but his words seem flirtatious. The implication makes you even more flustered. You clear your throat before speaking, trying to cover up your obvious nervousness. “N-no, I’m fine. Just a random shiver is all.”

You internally cringe at your own stuttering. It’s obvious he’s picked up on it. Dabi hums in response, eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief. “If you say so.” Heat rises in your cheeks. You huff out of frustrated embarrassment. He wasn’t entirely certain before, but judging from how you don’t recoil at his touch and how flustered it makes you, he’s confident in what he heard at the door now. Magne was right. You are attracted to him, you just don’t know the feeling is mutual.

Truthfully, he’s not sure what to do with this knowledge. This is uncharted territory for him. All he’s been focused on is his grandiose plan to ruin Endeavor. Fawning over someone was pointless and distracting. Besides, after what happened to his body, he thought his appearance was too unsightly anyways. It was better for him to abandon the idea altogether, lest he gets rejected and tossed aside all over again. But after hearing you don’t think he’s repulsive, what the fuck is he supposed to do now? It’s not like he learned what to do from his father. He knows he feels attraction towards you, though. Until he figures out the rest, he’s content with sneaking touches and stealing glances. The rush you give him is just too addictive to pass up.

“Th-there, that should do it,” you shakily say. He hums in acknowledgement. Your eyes meet his, only to notice that he’s much closer to your face and looking at your lips with narrowed eyes.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask, nervousness clear in your voice.

“Your lips turned blue last time, just doing my part to make sure you don’t fall on me again,” he replies.

“And are they blue now?” His hand cups your jaw and his thumb just barely grazes your bottom lip. Your heart begins to quicken at the gesture.

“No,” he answers. “Looks perfect to me.” He makes eye contact with you and you can’t suppress the way your mind hangs onto those words.

He’s inches away from your face, close enough to see every detail of your face. His eyes momentarily dart to your lips, an action you don’t miss. You swallow, feeling the butterflies swarming in your stomach. It’s your turn to glance at his lips. You can’t help but wonder how his lips would feel against yours. When your gaze meets his, you feel your breath hitch upon realizing he was watching you. His pupils are dilated and his eyes are lidded. To him, yours look the same.

His heart is thumping in his chest, much like yours is. The feelings between you two are wordlessly understood, demonstrated by how you’re both locked in place, frozen within this moment in time, as the tension crescendoes at an all-time high. Your resolve crumbles as you wish for the dam to finally break. He is the forbidden fruit, and consequences be damned, you want a taste. He seems to lean in closer, his breath fanning your lips. Instinctively, yours part. His eyes flutter closed and you do the same. The moment is rudely interrupted as a voice calls from the door.

“Dabi, y/n, the two of you are needed downstairs,” Kurogiri formally informs. Your eyes immediately snap open. To say his voice startled you is an understatement. You’re thankful Dabi’s door is still shut, at least. Kurogiri is not the worst person to discover the two of you like this, but you’d much rather not be discovered at all.

Dabi lets his forehead fall against yours and begrudgingly opens his eyes, gazing at you with a soft expression you’ve never quite seen on him. He seems to hesitate before pulling away from you, battling the desire to just kiss you quickly. He locks eyes with you one more time and lets out a sigh, one that is mixed with disappointment and frustration. His fingers card through his hair, an attempt to soothe the tension he feels. He parts his lips to speak and tiredly drawls,“Alright, we’ll be right there.”

You slide off of the table and the two of you walk together downstairs, neither of you mentioning that close moment. Everyone appears to be gathered in the bar, with Shigaraki standing near the door next to an unfamiliar person. The stranger has a hulking figure, with large, rippling muscles over his entire body. He appears to have an artificial eye on the side of his face marled with a deep, large scar. The eye is unlike anything you’ve seen before, as it exposes some of the ocular muscles and does not aim to look very natural.

The rest of the LOV is waiting for an explanation as to why this stranger is in the bar, seemingly approved by Shigaraki. Dabi and you stand tucked in the back of the crowd, behind Toga and Magne. Toga glances over her shoulder, catching sight of you and Dabi. She gives you a Cheshire Cat grin. “What took you two so long?” Toga teases in a hushed whisper.

“Healing stuff, you know, the usual,” you offer in explanation. Your voice must not sound confident, as she seemingly picks up on your lie.

“Right, sure,” she giggles, knowingly. You’re thankful Shigaraki begins to speak, interrupting that interaction and saving you from more embarrassment.

“This is Muscular, he will be accompanying you all on the mission tomorrow. Get your introductions out of the way now, I don’t wanna hear you were all too busy chatting to pull off the mission,” Shigaraki commands. “Talk about your quirks or something, you need to know how to use each other to our advantage.”

“Does this include me?” You worryingly ask Dabi.

“No, this doesn’t involve you. You and Shigaraki are staying behind,” he assures. You sigh in relief.

Shigaraki leaves his place next to Muscular and takes a seat on the bar, barking at Kurogiri to make him a drink, the action silently encouraging the others to get on with their introductions. Toga takes the initiative to approach Muscular first and bounces over to him. She seems excited to meet new people, and therefore Muscular, despite the unspoken nervousness that seems to build in the room.

“Hi, I’m Toga!”

“Your quirk, what is it?” he interrogates, seemingly completely uninterested in the casual small talk Toga was attempting to initiate. She pouts at his disinterest. It’s hard to hear where you are in the bar, but you swear you hear her mutter a ‘so rude’ under her breath.

“I can become someone else if I drink their blood. The more blood I drink, the longer I can look like them,” she explains. Her voice has lost her usual enthusiasm, replaced with a cordial but curt tone.

“Does that mean you can take on other people’s quirks?”

“No, I can just look like them or sound like them.”

“What happens when your timer runs out?”

“The facade melts off and leaves behind this gross clay,” she answers, grimacing at just the thought. This gives you more information about her quirk, something that you file in the back of your mind for later. The rest of the introductions go by as you hang back in the crowd with Dabi. Even Dabi seems slightly put off by Muscular, as he’s not in a hurry to approach him. Muscular ends up walking to Dabi, the crowd parting as he does so. Looks like the feeling is mutual amongst the rest of the LOV.

“Dabi, I take it?” Muscular asks. Dabi answers a very unenthusiastic ‘yeah’ in response. To others, it sounds like his usual apathetic attitude, but somehow, you’re able to distinguish the difference. “So you’re the guy leading the mission.”

“That’s right,” he answers. Muscular hums in acknowledgment, before his eyes meet yours.

“Oh? And who is this pretty little thing? She looks too weak and sweet to be a villain, is this your pet or something?” The hulking man asks. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you or the questions he’s asking. You take a few steps back, hoping increasing the distance between the two of you would offer you some comfort. He must notice your attempt at backing away as he says,“Aw, don’t like me? That’s too bad. Not like that’s ever stopped me before though.”

He licks his teeth and you tremble on the spot. This guy is fucking creepy and dangerous. Everyone else seems to notice your discomfort and the female members mirror it. Toga and Magne shift uncomfortably and tense up. Dabi shoots the man an annoyed glare, subtly slotting himself in the space between you and Muscular.

“She doesn’t concern you,” Dabi coldly states. He diverts the conversation with an assertive tone. “Let’s go over the plan since we all know each other now, yeah? Everyone’s got their role in this mission. We can’t afford anyone screwing it up.” You take the opening as your cue to leave, and flee upstairs. On your way up, you glance at Shigaraki, trying to gauge his reaction to ensure you’re permitted to leave. He uses the hand not wrapped around his glass to wave you off, silently allowing you to bolt.

Meanwhile while you’re upstairs, Dabi is going over the plan. He’s rather short with everyone. Dabi’s body temperature is rising, his skin slightly steaming. Truthfully, he’s fucking pissed at Muscular for that little stunt he pulled. Who does he think he is? He’s unaware of the obvious: he’s pissed because Muscular threatened you specifically. It’d be a cold day in hell before he lets someone hurt you, especially like that.

Muscular continues to test Dabi’s patience, as he interrupts the discussion to ask, “So what quirk does that pretty little thing upstairs have?”

“She can heal people with her skin!” Twice gleefully answers. His tone shifts to a more whiny tone to seemingly chide himself for revealing your quirk. “Don’t tell him that!” The answer seems to satisfy Muscular, as he doesn’t interrupt the plan again, allowing Dabi to give careful instructions and cool off. After all the information is laid out, Shigaraki beckons Dabi to come over.

“Dabi, Kurogiri has just informed me that my Master intends to loan us a Nomu for this mission,” Shigaraki states.

“A Nomu? That’s one of those artificial soldiers you mentioned once before, isn’t it?” Dabi asks, with interest. Shigaraki confirms, before divulging in more details.

“They’re trained to only respond to their commander. We’re setting it up to only take orders from you,” Shigaraki starts. He begins to go into detail about the quirks it has been fitted with and all of its resistances. Dabi glances over during his conversation with Shigaraki only to find Muscular is nowhere to be seen. There’s a pit forming in his stomach at the realization.

“Give me a minute, I gotta go check something,” Dabi interrupts. Without even waiting for Shigaraki to respond, he heads off in the direction of the stairs.

“Come back here, we weren’t done,” Shigaraki complains.

“Fuck off, it’ll only take a second. It’s not like the plan is happening anytime soon.” Shigaraki huffs in response, grumbling under his breath and beginning to scratch at his own neck in palpable annoyance. Dabi heads up the stairs, searching for Muscular and you. His ears are able to pick up on a conversation, instantly focusing in on your voice.

“Oh, um, sorry. I just healed someone else,” you meekly say, your apparent fear masked under the guise of politeness.

“What’s that got to do with it?” Muscular asks with annoyance.

“If I heal too much, my hands get cold enough for frostbite to set in.”

“Oh? But isn’t your quirk healing skin?”

“What’s your point?” Your tone is much more guarded, steeling yourself for what comes next. You don’t like where this conversation is headed.

“I’m just saying it doesn’t have to be your hands. Just take off your clothes. I’d warm you right up, baby,” he purrs. You feel nauseous at his implication as pure fear seeps into your body.

He’s making you really uncomfortable. This is one of the first times since your capture you’ve been genuinely worried for your safety. Shigaraki was intimidating when you first met him, but all it took to avoid his wrath was cooperation. But Shigaraki didn’t ever stoop this low with you, nor did anyone else. You’re surrounded by villains but this man seems like a true monster.

Your pulse races as more anxiety rises within you. The large man inches closer into your space, slowly cornering you against the wall. You frantically weigh your options. Do you risk shouting for help and hoping you’re saved? Or are you going to screw your eyes shut and cope with what comes next? You really wish you kept that knife on you. Hiding it was a safe bet, but you could really use that advantage right now.

“What are you still doing here?” You hear a familiar voice interject. Muscular turns his body to face the source, allowing you to see Dabi.

If looks could kill, Muscular would probably be dead ten times over. Dabi’s expression even rattles you to your core, despite not even being the intended recipient. There’s this oppressing aura of intimidation surrounding him, only furthered by the cold and unhinged look in his eyes. You realize this must be what his enemies see. This is why many people fear him, but not you.

“Just wanted to meet the healer you’ve been hiding from me. Is there something wrong with wanting to get to know everyone before the mission?”

“There’s no need, she won’t be going.”

“What a waste,” Muscular criticizes. He directs his next words to you, “Maybe next time.” With that, Muscular withdraws from your space and starts down the hall, glancing over his shoulder at you before he descends the stairs. Dabi’s eyes watch him as he leaves, not even risking taking his eyes off until Muscular is out of sight. Afterwards, he looks to you, noticing your very apparent scared state.

“Are you okay?” He finally asks, his voice much softer towards you. “Did he do anything?”

“Besides say some gross things? No, he didn’t get the chance to act on it,” you answer. Dabi’s brows are still furrowed out of concern for you and annoyance at Muscular.

“He doesn’t know which room is yours, so you can hide in there. I’ll let you know when he leaves,” he instructs. You nod and don’t hesitate to hide. You’re grateful for Dabi’s interruption. Imagining what would have happened to you had Dabi not intervened only serves to further rattle your nerves. You sit on your bed, tucking your knees against your chest and renaming as quiet as possible, so as to keep Muscular from figuring out where you are should he attempt to look for you. The silence in your room helps you come back down from anxiety and back to reality, though you can never fully relax, as your ears still pick up on what you think is Muscular’s voice downstairs. In an attempt to drown out his voice, you cover your ears with your pillow. It helps some, as a lot of the sounds downstairs are muffled by the cotton in your pillow. You let out some deep breaths, finally slowing your beating heart back down to a normal level.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you hear a knock on your door. Your steps are cautious and slow as you head to the door, carefully opening it and peering through the sliver of space to see who it is. You’re met with a wave of relief to see familiar purple scars and shining silver staples. You open the door wider, feeling safer not seeing Muscular. Dabi notices the difference in your demeanor and obvious tension leaving your body. It’s strange, he thinks, that someone could be relieved to see him. He doesn’t quite understand why the thought makes him want to grin.

“Happy to see me?” He jokes with a smirk before sauntering in. It’s almost criminal how attractive he looks with his signature smirk. “You can relax, you know, he won’t be staying around here before the mission.”

“Oh thank god. I don’t like that guy,” you admit. He chuckles at your honesty.

“I don’t either, but he is strong. We could use him, even if he’s stupid and rash. In any case, he’d make a great pawn.”

“So he’s not going to be a permanent member?”

“I doubt it, he lacks real ambition. He’s probably just itching for a fight is all. I bet he’ll fuck off after the mission once he realizes we’re not constantly starting meaningless chaos,” he denounces, smirking while shit-talking about Muscular. It brings you some comfort to know that Dabi is both on your side and shares your distaste for Muscular. His expression turns a bit more serious and he adds, “I doubt he’ll be around you again, but for what it’s worth, I won’t let him try anything. If he tries anything, scream, and I’ll be there. I don’t care if Shigaraki needs him or not, I’ll fucking burn him.”

Normally, you’d be socially obligated to admonish someone for saying they’d murder another person. But, in this case, you’re making an exception. “Thank you, Dabi,” you show gratitude. You give him a soft smile, before attempting a lighthearted joke, “I promise I’ll give him my best girl-in-a-horror-movie shriek.”

“Atta girl,” he praises and laughs. The two of you part ways for the night afterwards, leaving you to get some much needed rest after the rollercoaster that was your day. Falling asleep isn’t as difficult as you feared it would be. You drift off to sleep, knowing that Dabi has your back.

The next couple of days pass by relatively quietly, at least, for the league’s standards. They seem to be gearing up for the upcoming outing, as everyone minus Shigaraki and Kurogiri leave one night. When they arrive, you notice that they’re now fitted with new equipment. Toga carries this backpack with clear tubes on her persons, and you’re able to notice the tubes connect to a rather large syringe. Magne now has a huge rectangular metal beam, one end colored in red while the opposite is blue. It’s a magnet, you realize. Dabi even received something new, as he’s wearing new clothes. His new jacket is black with silver cuffs at the half sleeves. There’s a stitching motif around the collar and along the split tails of his coat.

You really hate how your first thought is how good he looks in it. It seems like their little mission was nothing more than a supply run, hence the lack of injuries on Dabi. Truly, you’re thankful for it, in more ways than one. With the way you’re feeling about him, you’re sure that any close encounter would result in you finishing what you started on that damn table.

The day comes and goes. Night falling without any more commotion or contact with Dabi. It’s not until the next day that this pattern changes. There’s a knock on your door. Just like the last time, you slowly open the door, checking to see who it is. With no sign of Muscular, you swing open the door, allowing Dabi to step in. You expect him to take his seat on your bed like usual, only he doesn’t, and instead stands in front of you. You’re about to part your lips to ask what he needs, but he speaks first, answering your question.

“We’re about to leave for the rendezvous point,” he informs. Neither Dabi nor the others usually let you know when they’re about to run off to do one of their missions. The fact he’s even letting you know makes you think that this one is significant, far more important or dangerous than anything they’ve done before. Thinking about what could happen makes you a bit nervous.

“Do you think there’s going to be a lot of injuries?” You ask, approaching the topic with a careful tone.

“If all goes well, it should be just the usual,” he answers. The ‘usual’ implies he’ll be the only one returning with the typical burns characteristic of his quirk.

“And if it doesn’t?” You counter. Dabi doesn’t answer you. The silence cements the direness of the situation.

Dabi looks at you with an intense longing you only saw a glimpse of that time you nearly kissed. He thinks about what would happen if he doesn’t get the chance to come back to you, what would happen if he got caught by the heroes. The thought causes an ache in his chest, but he won’t back down from the mission. He can’t. This is a stepping stone to his eventual goal. He’s sure that the LOV could bring him closer to his eventual target. He has to take the risk. And if he has to take this one, what’s another?

He steps closer to you and pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. The sudden gesture takes you by surprise, but you don’t stiffen out of discomfort. Rather, you seem to relax in his hold and almost lean into his touch. Still, you can’t help but acknowledge this seems out of character for him.

“What’s gotten into you? Is everything okay?” The worry is clear in your voice.

“I just… wanted to do this before I go,” he explains. His voice is quiet and unsure, something you interpret as a result of his unfamiliarity with affection. Against your better judgement, you find yourself reciprocating, wrapping your arms around him.

“Well you’re coming back, aren’t you?” you ask, your voice partially muffled by his jacket. He doesn’t respond immediately. The two of you reluctantly part but still hover in each other’s space. You look up at him, making eye contact. There’s this look in his eyes that you can’t quite place. He seems far away from you, despite being close enough to touch.

“Yeah,” he answers. Somehow, you can tell he’s not entirely confident in his answer. Your stomach twists upon noticing, and you can’t help but feel a bit saddened to think of him disappearing on you. You’re beginning to question your sanity. Is Stockholm finally setting in? How are you going to feel about him when you finally escape? Will these feelings you have for him make you never wish to leave? He exits your room with great hesitation, leaving you to stand there in silence, reflecting on your burning questions.

After a few minutes, you hear Shigaraki calling for you downstairs. You close your eyes and breathe in, steeling yourself for the incoming interaction with Shigaraki, before releasing your breath and heading downstairs. When you arrive in the bar, you find everyone has their equipment packed and are clustered in the open area of the floor. You cringe when you see Muscular in the far corner, but Shigaraki waves you over, unintentionally saving you from appearing available for conversation to Muscular. You approach Shigaraki, feeling a bit confused as to why you were requested here.

“I thought I wasn’t going?” You question, your voice raising towards the end in uncertainty. Shigaraki scoffs in annoyance.

“You’re not,” Shigaraki retorts.

“But… then why did you…?” You trail off, referencing why he called for your presence downstairs.

“I’m not dumb enough to let you wander around on your own. You’re staying down here so Kurogiri and I can babysit you,” Shigaraki patronizes. You make it a point to not let Shigaraki’s words get to you anymore, considering he talks that way to literally everyone.

“Invest in a nanny if it bothers you that much,” you grumble under your breath, before taking a seat in one of the bar booths. You rest your elbows against the table and place your chin in the palm of your hand, with an uninterested expression. With nothing else to look at, your eyes wander the crowd. Your subconscious takes the reigns and your eyes travel over to Dabi. He seems to have a determined expression on his face as he speaks with Twice. You wonder what drives him, what motivates him to do the things he does, how he continues to use his quirk despite how it hurts him. He’s never revealed much to you, or really anybody, what goal he’s working towards. It both fascinates you and terrifies you. Some part of you admires it, even, how he’s so driven that his own self destruction won’t stop him.

You must have been staring and lost in thought for too long, as his gaze snaps to you. Your surroundings fade into the background and you feel frozen in place. The moment is interrupted as Kurogiri summons a warp gate in the corner of the room, the two of you diverting your gazes to the strange purple portal. Everyone files in, one by one, and slowly becomes enveloped into the gateway, transporting them to a location completely unknown to you. Dabi is the last to file in. He glances over his shoulder to look back to you. His eyes stay locked onto yours, his bright eyes partially shrouded behind the mist, all the way up until he disappears in the violet haze. You find yourself asking a million questions about their plans. Just what does Shigaraki have in store for them? What’s so dangerous about this mission? What does the league of villains hope to accomplish?

A few hours trudge by painfully. You’ve spent this entire time counting; counting how many times Kurogiri seems to polish the same spot on the bar, how many unopened bottles of expensive liquor are collecting dust on the shelves, how many scuff marks tarnish the shine of the wooden floor… The point is, there’s only so many things in the room. You’re painfully bored and running out of novel ways to entertain yourself.

Meanwhile, Shigaraki spends his time playing on his Switch, carefully holding it with his pinkies raised up. It seems inconvenient, you think, to have to constantly be mindful of disintegrating everything you touch. You wonder just how many gaming consoles he’s gone through, how many he’s accidentally dusted with his quirk. Though, based on how heated he gets over his games, you wager that a lot of those instances may be more on purpose than on accident.

Speaking of which, it seems like he’s reached a tough part of the game, as he groans at the sight of the flashing ‘Game Over’ graphic (which is his third time seeing the words, and yes, you’ve been counting that too). The gaming console is tossed aside. Shigaraki checks his phone and repeatedly taps his finger onto the bartop. You can deduce that he’s feeling impatient and waiting on something based on his mannerisms. Your ears strain to hear how he mutters in annoyance, mumbling about how everyone sucks at giving him updates. You can only presume he’s referring to the mission. Your boredom emboldens you, as you find yourself starting a conversation with Shigaraki while his attention is not grabbed by his handheld console. There’s always been one very obscure thing you’ve wanted to ask him. Now’s your chance to have this stupid curiosity settled.

“I have a question,” you say.

“It better not be about the mission,” he deadpans.

“It’s not,” you assure. He seems to relax a bit, until you add, “My question is much worse.”

“I swear to god, if you ask about-” he starts to rant, before you cut him off.

“Do you ever wash your hand mask?” You gesture to your face, referencing the hand he always wears there. It’s obvious he’s taken off guard, even with his face being partially obscured by the covering. There’s a very tense silence. You interrupt the quietness, “So… I’ll take that as a no…”

“It’s a taxidermy,” he finally replies, no longer stunned by your unexpected question.

Well, that certainly explains why.

It’s your turn to remain silent.

“Oh,” is the most you’re able to muster. This situation makes you miss talking to Dabi, Toga, or Magne already, and it’s only been a couple hours. He notices you picking at your nails, something he sees as you trying to entertain yourself.

“Are you bored?” He asks.

“No, not at all. I love sitting here in silence. It’s riveting, really. You should try it,” you answer sarcastically. He sighs and you notice him scratching at his neck, probably agitated by your sarcasm.

“Here’s the remote, entertain yourself and stop bothering me,” he orders, holding up the remote before tossing it at you. You manage to grab it before it either hits you or falls on the ground.

“Don’t mind if I do,” you beam. He places his phone on the counter, screen down, and resumes playing on his Switch. You spend the rest of the night lounging around, enjoying the free access to the league’s tv without the other members vying for control of the channels. Against your better judgment, you flip to the news, curious as to what’s going on in the world. You feel a bit disappointed not seeing anything about your disappearance on the news. The lack of coverage makes you wonder if anyone even noticed your absence at all. You try not to let it get to you and choose to busy yourself by watching increasingly odd gameshows. It helps a bit, as the bizarre tasks the contestants are forced to participate in gives you something else to think about.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, and you’re about to doze off, until you’re startled awake. Kurogiri summons a portal, and out pours the rest of the league. You eyes quickly scan all the bodies, taking inventory of everyone. There’s Toga, Magne, Twice, Dabi, Spinner, and Compress. Muscular and a few of the other strangers are gone. What happened to them?

“The target?” Shigaraki interrogates.

“Handled by your’s truly,” Compress ensures, with a grandiose flourish. His stagelike mannerisms are showing.

“Toga, how much blood did you get?” Shigaraki adresses next. She holds up the syringe attached to a pump, the same gear you see her leave with. The amount in the vial is remarkably small, with barely any blood present.

“One person’s!” She cheerily answers. Shigaraki lets out a sigh that can only be described as a frustrated huff.

“It’ll have to do,” he settles. “Whoever’s injured should go get healed first. We’ll talk about the rest of the plan afterwards.”

Dabi saunters over to you, accompanied by Compress following behind. Compress seems to be clutching his own shoulder, making you worry that a much more serious injury underneath his jacket. Your eyes scan over Dabi, not noticing any blaring signs of other wounds, apart from the usual burns on his hands and arms. Maybe you were worrying over him for nothing after all.

“What sort of injuries am I working with?” You ask the two of them.

“Compress ate shit and got slammed to the ground. There’s gotta be some bruising. If not to his body, then his ego,” Dabi snickers. “Nothing out of the ordinary for me, though.”

“Oh come off it!” Compress groans. “I’ll have you know I took that tussle with grace.”

“In that case, I’ll start with Compress,” you decide, interjecting their bantering. You rise from your seat in the booth and motion for Compress to sit. You crack your knuckles before instructing, “You’ll need to remove your coat, I can’t heal through fabric.”

Compress sheds his mustard colored coat, revealing an orange button down shirt underneath a black buttoned vest. You can’t but wonder why this man wears so many fucking layers of clothing. The sheer amount of buttons he has to undo makes the process a little awkward, as you’re left standing there, wringing your hands. After a moment or two, his torso is now bare to you. You can see blooms of purples and blues across his chest, no doubt from the impact. Your hands touch the bruises and your quirk activates. Dabi can’t help but grit his teeth at the sight and hover by your side.

“Your hands are so cold. Will you be alright? I heard you can get frostbite like this,” he asks with a shuddering voice. Your hands move over to the last cluster of bruising on his chest, leaving behind even, porcelain skin in it’s wake.

“Don’t worry about it, Dabi will warm me up,” you dismiss. There’s a sharp silence as you realize the accidental innuendo of your word choice. To your dismay, Compress picks up on it.

“Oh will he now?” If he wasn’t wearing a mask, you’re sure you’d see his eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that! He has a fire quirk, he can heat up his hands for Christ’s sake. Get your mind out of the gutter,” you defend. With no more bruises left, you cross your arms and huff. “And to think I took you for a gentleman, Compress.”

“Pardon the crude implication, but your words made it easy to assume,” he feigns an apology through strained snickers. He rebuttons his clothes and shrugs into his topcoat, smoothing over the wrinkles with his hands. Compress rises from his seat in the booth. You expect him to run off, but he stands in front of you, and asks, “Would you forgive me if I showed you a magic trick?”

“If it’s a good one, I’ll consider it,” you bargain.

With a sleight of hand, he presents to you a white azalea. “For your services,” he offers. You pluck the flower from his hand and twirl the stem between your fingers. “Harvested fresh from the Nagano forest.”

“Hm… I suppose I’ll forgive you, just this once,” you offer, bringing the flower to your lips. Your gaze turns to Dabi as you address him next, “Lemme just set this down and I’ll heal you next, Dabi.”

You turn to place the flower on the table, but the plant is stolen from your fingers, the motion expertly performed with the skill of a thief. You’re about to protest when Dabi tucks the azalea behind your ear, a gesture you weren’t anticipating, especially given how public this display of affection is. You’re too busy glancing at the crowd, searching for any signs of the others acknowledging what happened, that you fail to notice the side eye Dabi gives Compress.

“I was worried you were gonna take it from me for a minute there,” you mumble while fiddling with your hands.

“Nah, looks better on you than it would me,” he contends. He slides into the booth and presents you with his hands. “Now, you ready to do this or are you too cold?” You shake your head and clasp your hands around his, firing up your quirk.

“It’s good to see you’re not too hurt,” you mention.

“Yeah, the mission went well,” he explains.

“Really, is that so?” you respond. You’re doubtful it truly went well, considering how there’s less members than what they left with. Not wanting to outright ask about what happened, lest you learn of abhorrent details, you decide on a more subtle approach. “It’s just… I notice there’s some people missing, is all,” you carefully mention, almost in a whisper.

“Not the important ones. You trying to say you miss Muscular?” Dabi jokes.

“God no, I’m glad he’s not here,” you’re quick to respond.

“Besides, we caught a UA brat and the boss will convert him to our side. The kid will replace the others, once we let him out of the marble,” Compress boasts. There’s a sharp silence that takes over you upon hearing so and you halt all your moments. They kidnapped another person? What seems to be a child, at that?

The look of disappointment that flashes on your face is something Dabi won’t ever forget. You seem to wilt at the information, contrasting the still-fresh flower tucked in your hair. “I see,” you murmur.

They really put the kid in kidnapping, didn’t they?

61 notes · View notes