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Can I ask for some tot fluff after the angst? Mc is in hospital and guys find her (she’s totally fine, just sprained an ankle or something minor). Ty!
characters: all
a/n: i didn’t make it a minor injury per se, but mc is all good n it’s still fluff!!
alternate ver
ARTEM WING
“you know, i was so worried when i saw, i could have sworn i started crying. don’t even know why my cheeks are dry,” artem tells you, lightheartedly. although you can hear the rawness of his heart in his words, you choose to simple place a hand on his cheek, just as you’ve done many times before that.
“you know i’d never just leave you behind like that.”
“not even when i had to watch you with all that blood coming out of you? you didn’t see it, mc. i was so scared you weren’t coming back and i’d have to watch you get buried when i didn’t even get to live my life out with you yet.”
“i’m not leaving you, artem. i love you.” artem just lays his head down the side of your bed, taking a few straggled breaths, a few sobs falling out of his mouth. you give him a small kiss, at the top of his head, where you can reach from your position in the bed. he looks up at you and you place your hand back gently on his cheek.
but it’s different, artem notes. you just smile at him, hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing comforting circles where your words would usually be. he places a chaste kiss on your fingers, gently but so full of his emotions. you can almost feel all his unshed tears.
“artem, thank you,” you say, fighting back a few tears of your own.
“why?”
“for being so good at loving me.”
and just like how the sun is after a particularly heavy storm, the clouds part and warmth returns. “thank you, too. for letting me love you.”
MARIUS VON HAGEN
you wake up with a groan. something heavy’s right on your chest. seriously, do patients not get the privilege of getting good sleep. you look down, not too surprised to see marius there, deep asleep, muttering to himself, a few emotions flickering on his face. you let your hand caress his cheek, still moist from the dried tears. marius was never good at keeping his composure when ti came to you.
so there you sat in silence, until you heard marius sob in sleep. he says something, unintelligible, but you register it as a cry nonetheless. “marius? marius, wake up. marius? marius.”
he shoots up, quickly scanning his surroundings before his eyes land to you. “a nightmare?”
“even when you’re sick you’re still worried about me,” he half-heartedly comments, unable to muster up his usual whines. “marius,” you say, a hand wrapping around his, “what’s wrong?”
“i thought you were gonna die, mc. i didn’t even-, i didn’t even get to say my last words. if you did, i-” he sobs, falling on your chest again, and it feels like the weight of the world falls back upon you. “marius, i’m fine. see? i’m here, and you still have all the time to tell me what you want.”
“but what if you weren’t?” he pleads with you an answer. his tears falling freely down his cheeks. “i would’ve been okay, because i hate seeing you like this.”
LUKE PEARCE
“mc, wake up. wake up, please. please, please, please, please, please.” you hear luke mutter, his hands on your cheeks. you grumble, your eyes adjusting to the harsh hospital lights after being unconscious for god knows how long.
“luke..?”
you hear his choked sob. frankly, you’re having a hard time seeing, between the lights and your squinting to try and avoid it, you probably have no way to see what luke’s doing right now.
but you feel him. he hasn’t let his hand leave your body. it pulls away from your cheeks and to your hand. “luke, how long was i out?”
“3 days.”
“3 days? it’s friday?!” you struggle to move, but your body was frankly, too tired to be of much use right now. “mc, don’t move! i’ll call the doctors.”
so the doctors come, do their routine checking and leave. luke stays behind with you, hand on yours, sitting silent. “luke, what’s wrong? how bad was it, luke,” you add on, trying to assess the situation as best as you can from where you lay. his grip on your hand shakes as he squeezes your hand a bit in comfort. “they didn’t think you were ever going to wake up. it was bad, mc. so, so, so, so bad.”
you move your hand up to his chin, tilting it to look towards you, with the best strength you could muster. luckily, luke doesn’t fight it. “luke, i lost 8 years with you. i’m not losing any more than what i have to. i promise.”
VYN RICHTER
vyn sits beside you, silently cutting some fruit for you. it’s never been this silent with him ever, in all your years of knowing him. “vyn-”
“why couldn’t you be more careful?” he asks. you’d be angry at his words, that is, if his tone wasn’t so full of desperation. you don’t know what the things vyn has seen to make him react so pained, but it must have been taxing. his voice shakes, and so does his arms. at least he has the mind to put down the fruit knife.
“mc, i trust your judgement. more than anyone, more than mine. you keep me safe, so why are you so careless with yours? do you know what i’ll do once you’re gone? because i don’t — and that’s the worst part. i can’t do this without you, mc. so why couldn’t you have been more careful-”
you shut him up with a kiss. a long awaited and welcomed one. you pull away, foreheads touching, eyes connected. “vyn, i didn’t mean to get hurt, and for you to get hurt too in the process. if care is what it needs, then i’d be more than happy to give it just that.”
“i can’t watch you dying, again, mc. i don’t-”
“i promise, vyn. you won’t have to.” this time, he initiates the kiss. a fresh take of life and forgiveness and sorrow and love, all wrapped up in a vyn-sized bundle.