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goldenart0 · 4 years

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I am someone who believes that most stories would do better if there was a character (specifically protagonist) who just puts all of there points into charisma. Like, I love villains that are just Manipulative Bastards (like MCD Zane, brilliant character and villian. A dick, but well written), but honest to god having protagonists doing those things is equally as awesome to me.

And there’s also kinda this thing with Oscar ending up giving characters morality crises (I specifically saw on thing with Neo and Cinder as like a ‘what if Neo and Cinder ended up kidnapping Oscar but he just ends up giving them a morality crises) because baby. But then I thought, okay that, but more on purpose. Like specifically trying to get people to have morality crises or just not kill him.

So of course I put two and two together, and ended creating a list of reasons I think it makes sense for Oscar to be the kind of character with all point into charisma and such.

1) It fits his actually character so far.

Oscar from what we’ve seen always tends to try talking over nearly any other plan. In V5 he got Ruby to kinda open up a bit. Durning his fight with Hazel in V5 after learning Hazel’s story he tries to convince Hazel to move on and not blame anyone other then his sister for it (“did she know the risks?”). V6 he tried talking to Jaune after the group told JNR about Salem. And in V7, while everyone else was either fighting someone or trying to get to safety, he went to talk to and convince Ironwood to stop what he’s doing. There have been quite a few times where this tactic has failed, but the point still being it’s what he nearly always defaults to. Talk and convince other as opposed to jumping to punching them. Also, in V7 when everything was kinda falling apart in Atlas while they were at the party and James was panicking because the plan was falling apart, Oscar was the one to help James realize (maybe even help come up with a plan) that this isn’t as bad as it seems and that they can turn in around. This isn’t just plain optimism, this is taking the scene and finding a way to make in work in your favor. Which I’m sure is something that will come real handy soon. On that note, since (I’m like 90% sure) we’re out of act two and into act three, things will start to look up a bit more for our protagonists. And by most means they are in a very bad situation right about now. But as we’ve seen, bad situations can be turned good in you think right.

1.5) Also, he’s not the best fighter. And he knows this. In volumn six he specifically comes into the ship with Maria to help by watching from above. He doesn’t work well by being in the front lines, and he knows that. Besides this group needs someone who can deal with, ya know, people and most of them not really seem to fill that role quite that best (I know ruby can deliver her speeches in moments if need, but could she handle a professional meeting or discussion? I think not).

2) It’s not a typical story path.

These traits of making situations work better for you and convincing other to do things you’d like (ie.dont kill me) tend to be traits more given to villains as opposed to heroes. Think about it. How many villain to you know that manipulated and cunning compared to heroes. Not much in this day and age. But RWBY has done this kind of thing before. Take Ruby for example. Just looking at her we see dark colors, a cloak, a not typical hero weapon. But then we meet her and? It’s a bouncy girl who loves weapons, loyal to her friends, and with a spark that just won’t go out. She does not seem like what we’d expect by just given her design. Oscar himself already does this to some degree. He is the actual definition of a chosen one protagonist. And yet he is not the protagonist at all, and honestly that makes this idea even more fun. As I said, this is a trait that villains tend to get. Chosen one heroes never really get this, they fight to cunning villain instead. So seeing that flipping of traits and breaking of tropes is wonderful to me, and I love it and I hope RWBY never stop doing it.

3) Greek Mythology:

There are two main kinds of heroes in Greek mythology (at least as we’ve been able to find and collect, mythology is Fucking Weird sometimes. Most times history and time don’t really help much). The prideful one, who gets destroyed by their own hubris and the cunning one. Salem falls very much into the first of those. She’s like a Bellerophon, trying to reach the gods but being struck down, or an Icarus flying to close to the sun. Oscar on the other hand seems to be a bit more like Odysseus, may not physically be the strongest, but damn he was smart enough to get out of many bad situations. Or Heracles who, despite what modern media tends to show him as, was really fricken smart. The dude managed to trick Atlas into taking the sky back by basically saying he’d take it back but then went “fun fact! I lied. Bye!”. He figured out how to take down enemies many thought were immortal though smarts and figuring out their weaknesses. He realized when he couldn’t physically do something, found a way to do it, and won some horse along the way. Ancient Greece really liked to say, Brawns won’t do you shit if you don’t have the brains to back then up, and even when as far to go with that brains were more important then brawns at points. Also, remember that story with Atlas and Heracles I just told you? Well I mean they are in Atlas and they need to find some shiny relics...

4) There will be no victory in strength:

One of the main themes in RWBY is how you can’t just fight your way out of everything. Now the main group hasn’t quite realized this yet, hence why they were so upset about the Salem thing. But Oscar is the epitome of this idea. He doesn’t go straight to fighting the majority of the time, and tries to talk with people and convince them to change. Now I’m not saying he should try that with Salem, I highly doubt that’ll work, but honestly it would probably work with most of the other antagonists in the series. (“I don’t need to be able to beat you in a fight, I just need to be able to convince you to fight someone else”).

5) Plans

Honestly, quite a few of the groups in RWBY are not the best planners. The protagonists a) tend to only think about what to do immediately and b) go to fighting first. They also don’t really back up plans, just kinda wing it of plan A doesn’t work. Ironwood is very rigid in his plans, both as not being able to deal well is the plan fails, and in letting other people bring up other ways to handle something. But as I say earlier, Oscar was the one to convince Ironwood that not all hope was lost and that new plans can be made out if the ashes of the old one. It’s sort of a “think ten steps ahead, but also look out for any opening and play with the hand you’re dealt” kind of thing. Because taking chances when you see that and bending a situation to fit what you need is very much a more manipulative move, but also can be very helpful. Especially is current plans are failing. Or everything is very very bad at the moment. And Oscar is the only we’ve really seen to something like that. Everyone else just tends to find a way that works and just stick with it, not really making room to be flexible. Flexibility is important you guys.

6) Possible Semblance:

I think one thing most of us all agree on is that there is no way that Oscar can just be holding in all of his emotions and just, like, be fully mentally ok at this point in time (okay honestly none if the kids are) and I at least would like for him to just snap. And I think a main part of that will be not having people listen to him (ie. James just shooting him instead of listen to what he had to say) and not being seen as himself and who he is. And we know that Semblances tend to relfect in a person. With all that being said, there is a power that could manage to not only hit that current issues Oscar’s having mentally, but also with the while ‘convincing others’ part. Glamour. Now I might be the only one that read about this because of what I’ve found online, but Fae Glamour, as well as being able to make you look different, can also ness with peoples brains a bit. Just like, some making you believe something different here, some changing if your perspective on reality there ya know? Oh if you’ve ever read the series, The Invisible Library (I recommend you do if you like fantasy, the multiverse, fae, dragons, etc.), the librarians in that have the ability to make this to things, the farther from what it’s normally be like the more effort it takes. Kinda like that. This also ties in with Oz general Fae-like thing. I’m not joking he’s very much like a Fae. (This would also tie into my next point woo transitions).

7) Conflict:

As has been said before, these sorts of things are not usually hero traits. And there are definitely people on the group who may not be the most okay with someone doing things that aren’t fully morally right all the time and that could very well cause some issues. Issue that is even occur would probably be dealt with in a more timely manor but still. (Also the FNDM might not like it as much as well, cause no one seems to understand that morality isn’t just black and white).

I think that’s all? I might end up adding more is I remember or think of it. Well thanks for surviving my ramble if you did read it all

#rwby #oscar pine #rwby theory #basically he’s a slytherin #like a Manipulative Bastard but Neutal Good instead Neutal/Lawful Evil #part of me is like #he wouldnt use much cause precious cinnamon roll #but another part is #MCD Zane but just on the good side of dnd allinment chart #itd be fun if that were the case #i doubt it but itd be fun #also this whole thing would probably make him a bit more involed with planning and such #so thats good for the lancer thing

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bigbootytroll · 5 years

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One Day Vacation

Been in a writing slump. But @pizzapupperroni requested another Twrp drabble involing the reader and some fun times at the Ladyworld with the boys! I hope it's good! (Once again, includes cyclops!Sung and Havve using a translator.)

No scheduled shows, no tours, no rehearsals nor practices. The day belonged to the band, and they were taking advantage of it in their own ways. Havve was observing Meouch playing a game on the living room TV, reminding him every now and again of how much time he had left before Havve got his turn to watch his shows. For the most part, Meouch ignored him, it wasn't like what he was going to turn on wouldn't be reruns anyway. No one ever understood what the bot found so appealing about reality television, and it suited him just find that no one asked. In a nearby room, Phobos was playing the acoustic guitar, producing a nice tune that could be heard throughout the house, and was rather pleasing to hear. There were short pauses between the sound which lead to the assumption that he may have been writing a song. Sung had recently returned from a jog and was now cooped up in the basement, likely tinkering and experimenting. The doctor always managed to keep busy like a bee, never allowing any moment of any day to go to waste. Despite all of them being distracted with their own activities, you could tell that they, Havve being an exception, all seemed to have something on their minds.

You happened to glance over at Meouch who had a concentrated look on his face. But even though he was staring intently at the screen, his focus seemed like it was elsewhere. Just as you were about to speak, Havve's voice translator piped up in an abrupt manner.

"Time is up." He made a move, taking the remote and changing it to his preferred channel. Meouch heaved a bit of a sigh.

"Coulda warned me."

"He did, about every five minutes." You threw your two cents in, getting the cat to roll his eyes in response. He folded his arms behind his head and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling for a brief moment before his ears twitched towards the sound of your voice.

"What're you thinking about?" You asked. Meouch glanced at you before turning his eyes back up towards the ceiling. Saying it was nothing would be pointless, his current thoughts weren't anything to hide.

"When was the last time any of us went to the beach?" The question caught you slightly by surprise.

"I mean, it's been a while. Why?" Your head tilted slightly. He merely shrugged in response.

"Just thinkin' about it." Suddenly, the TV's volume had increased as Havve looked between the two of you. Even though he was unable to experience emotions, some form of silent irritation lingered.

"Dude, just turn on the subtitles." Meouch lazily gestured at the remote, causing Havve to look at him, his red optics glowing brighter for just a moment before returning his gaze to the drama. No matter that your conversation was cut short, Meouch's question had you wondering; when was the last time you all went down to the seaside? You let the thoughts bounce around in your brain before getting up and heading out of the room. You stepped into the hallway before poking your head into Phobos' room. A gentle melody could still be heard, and you found him seated at the edge of his bed, strumming the guitar's strings. Almost instantly upon you entering, he lifted his head and smiled, a silent greeting. You seated yourself on a nearby chair, he didn't mind, and the guitarist carefully lowered his instrument in order to sign.

Do you need something?

"Oh, no. Just stopping by." You reassured. Phobos' fingers idly tapped against his guitar for a second before he suddenly signed again.

It really has been a while. Your brow furrowed slightly in question. The beach? He added. A soft "oh" escaped you when you realized he'd heard the conversation from the living room.

"You've been thinking about it too?" He nodded. You figured that it was just a coincidence that now two of the band members were thinking of the same thing, but that didn't explain why. Why the unexpectedness of it? Why the beach, of all places?

As it turned out, if it weren’t already becoming obvious, the guys were seeking something fun to do. A quick discussion lead to a spur of the moment. A mini vacation was due. It certainly wasn't a planned trip, but none of you were complaining. All packed up with the essentials for a day at the beach and you were off. But not just any beach though, oh no. This trip was one to a whole different planet. Before leaving, you and the boys had been discussing your options, when Meouch happened to mumble something about Ladyworld. The mention of the paradise planet got everyone to look at each other in silence for a few seconds. Meouch threw up his eyebrows, not sure how everyone felt about his suggestion due to their unclear reactions.

"So...that a no-go?" Meouch asked awkwardly, looking over everyone else's faces before stopping at Sung. The cyclops' expression was blank before melting into a smile, then softly spoke.

"Let's go to Ladyworld."

Ladyworld looked too good to be true, like something off of a postcard. There were bright, blue skies, friendly faces, waters as clear as crystal. Speaking of crystals, off in more distant areas, large-giant, in fact, crystal quartz grew from the ground up, towering as high as skyscrapers. It was breathtaking to see, especially for you, someone who’d never been before! True to its name, the planet was certainly filled with women of all different varieties. After landing, a small group of robotic females greeted the five of you with a warm welcome. Once you had gotten your guys’ stuff off of the ship, there was no hesitation to get down to a beach, and you weren’t disappointed with what you saw. Pastel pink sands were the first thing that caught your eye and stretched as far as you could see. You’d heard of pink beaches here and there on Earth, but this was on a whole different level on a whole different planet.

“Alright!” Sung said, hands on his hips, “Time for some sun in the fun! No, wait, that’s not-” Out of nowhere, a volleyball came hurdling through the air, hitting the good doctor on the left side of his head, almost knocking his tall helmet off.

“What a way to start off this trip.” You said with a laugh after he assured that he was fine, then tossed the ball back to a group of apologizing beachgoers.

“You can make it up to us by letting us play a game with ya, how does that sound?” Meouch called out to them. The players happily agreed, allowing you and the band to join. It was two versus two for each game, and every so often, teams would change up to keep things interesting and also make sure everyone got a chance to play. At one point, you found yourself on a team with one of the strangers against Havve and Sung. One was an athletic alien that could probably kick both of your asses at the game, and the other was a murder bot that had the potential to equally kick ass, metaphorically and literally. That particular game carried out pretty well, most of the returns from your opposing team were made by Sung. Before the final set began, you and the stranger shared a smile of confidence, your teams were neck and neck in points, and you were sure that you could come through as the victors. After the ball was served, you gave it your all, playing to win. The ball flew back and forth over the net, and after being returned by your teammate, the ball started to sail down towards Havve. Maybe it was the sun catching in your eyes, but you swore you saw his optics flash brightly as he, without any warning, leaped into the air, reared back his arm, and slammed his hand into the ball, spiking it with a full force. Whether they were staring at Havve or the ball that was now half buried in the sand from the sheer force, everybody looked shocked.

“We win.” Despite sounding monotone due to his translator, it didn’t take a genius to assume that he was gloating. A few more games were played until the group had to leave, thanking you and the guys for a fun time. But the day was still young and going home wasn’t even remotely a thought that plagued your minds. Havve sat on a beach towel, not wanting to get any more sand stuck in the crevices of his armor than he already did. The rest of you messed around in the water. Phobos returned to the shore after a short while and Sung was...attempting to figure out how surfing worked through some local surfers. At least he was sensible enough to leave his helmet on land. You stood off in the shallow part of the ocean, watching the others enjoy themselves. All except for Meouch? Where in Ladyworld was that space cat? Your thoughts were quickly answered by a pair of arms that wrapped around you from behind, pinning your own at your sides. Your pursuer hardly gave you any time to react as they lifted you up and began to spin in a circle, but suddenly released you, practically tossing you a few feet away into slightly deeper water. Quickly, you recovered, wiping the water from your face to spot Meouch, who had fallen over after throwing you, laughing his head off. Filled with a mischievous need to get revenge, you hurried back over to the lion, grabbed his shoulders, and shoved his upper half under the surface. The clearness of the water allowed you to see the shock and surprise on his face, making you laugh. Pushing his way back up, mane drenched and covering his eyes, he spit a mouthful of water at you as a final act of retaliation.

“Gross, dude!” You laughed, playfully punching his arm. “Thought cats didn’t like water?” Meouch gave a little shrug in response.

“Gettin’ used to it.” He pushed his mane out of his eyes, lips pulling back into a smile. “Besides,” Since he was still sitting, he yanked you down beside him, into the water, “If I get to throw nerds into the ocean, I’m all for it.” You rolled your eyes, smiling while you looked around.

“Is this what you had in mind when you were ‘thinking ‘bout the beach’?” You looked back at Meouch who let out a gentle sigh.

“Yeah, actually, it is. I really missed this place, and you know what? We deserved a trip back to paradise.” That indeed was true. It was a well deserved return to a true place of paradise.

#twrp #tupperwear remix party #twrp doctor sung #twrp havve hogan #twrp lord phobos #twrp commmander meouch #drabble #silly writings #all my setting end up taking place at the beach #the boys always make me think about the beach??

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mare-sanguis · 5 years

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Winston x Monty, Part VII

Clay and his friend met up at Monets. He wanted to inform them about what happened- unaware that Charlie and Tyler were involved in it too.

The tension was undeniable heavy between them all. All this was finally over but they still had this weird feeling that maybe one day the truth would come out. So they all were extremely careful.

"So why are we here? And whats up with this dark bad mood?" Zach said, side-eying Alex.

"Justin and I have to tell you guys something." Clay answered.

"What?"

"Well... Justin and I got a visit from somebody yesterday."

"Who?" Everyone in the round asked.

Justin sighed.

"Montys ex-lover. Winston."

All went silent. Alex whispered something along the line that this doesnt mean anything good.

Charlie nervously looked around, as well as Tyler.

"Guess you two arent the only one. He visited us too yesterday."

"What the heck?" Alex looked around.

"Why would he visit you guys?" Jessica asked, out of curiosity.

Clay shrugged. "I dont know- Justin doesnt know and I bet these two dont know either."

"But what did he tell you Charlie?"

"I dont know exactly. It was all a little cryptic. He said something along the line that its wrong to frame a dead person... he not literally said I should feel bad for it but it sounded like it. He implied it."

"Oh sounds like hes seeking for revenge? What about you Tyler?"

"Winston told me that he wanted to turn himself in. Because he realised that what he did was wrong."

Justin was silent this whole conversation. His mind drifted away. Away to what Winston had told him about Monty. So he didnt pay any attention to his friends.

"Justin- hey are you listening ?" Clays voice brought him out of his daydreams.

"Yeah- no- what?"

"You didnt told me what he told you. You just said he talked to you."

Justin shook his head.

"Nothingwe dont know already. That he had a pretty bad childhood."

Clay wasnt buying it, Justin knew.

Charlie took a deep breath.

"Hey uhm... theres something I wantedto show you. Winston gave it to me. This..." he placed an envelope on the table. "Its... its just weird."

Behind them, they could hear the door open up.

"Might if I join the loser club ? Clay invited me too and I thought I shouldnt miss the opportunity to see my old friends."

Scott said, pointing out the word "friends" as if it was something toxic. He than sat down on the empty chair at the end of the table.

Alex already looked pissed.

"What up with the mood over here? Somebody died again? As far as I can count all losers are together." He smiled, obviously joking around.

"No. Cut it with your bad jokes. We were in the middle of something." Alex said annoyed.

"Well. Continue. I wont interrupt." He shrugged and leaned back.

"Its not funny." Alex said again.

"Do I look like I want to joke around?"

They stared at each other for some seconds.

"Yeah well I know what youre thinking."

"Guys come on... stop this bullshit. We're here for something else." Clay raised his voice like the good mom he was.

Charlie opened up the envelope and pulled out one single uno reverse card.

"Oh? What'cha got there Charlie? This game doesnt work with just one card."

Scott scoffed- he just thought that this whole situation was kinda funny.

"Scott damn- shut the fuck up."

"Sorry." He shut up and started to analyze everyones reaction. Wow how he enjoyed seeing them confused like this.

"This was the only thing he gave me."

Scott just shook his head. Funny how they didnt know the one who gave Winston this card was sitting in front of them. No other than himself. Funny that this whole table was full of hypocrites. Luckily he never saw himself as one of their friends so he wasnt snitching on their back. He chuckled, a bit to loud. It didnt get unnoticed.

"Whats so funny huh?" Zach sounded like he was about to pick up a fight. Just because Alex was annoyed by Scotts presence.

"Maybe all of you are overreacting. Maybe hes just making fun of you."

"Scott... why the fuck are you even involved in this?" This was the first time Tony said something.

"Because Clay told me."

"Oh wow. Great." Jessica rolled her eyes.

"Dont treat me like one of your enemies- I did stupid things too but I'm sorry. I told you already. I tried to help to find the polaroid. I dont tell anyone."

"What ever."

"I wonder..." Justin started. "Did he visited you too?"

"Winston? No. Why would he?"

"Because it seems like hes hunting everyone down who was involed in the drama surrounding Bryce or friends with Monty. And you two were pretty close."

"No. As I said. I doubt that he even knows about me."

Alex smiled for some brief seconds.

"How does it feel knowing hes dead?"

Scott looked straight at him.

"Wow Alex- chill." Zach laid a hand on his shoulder.

"No. I want to know- how does it feel to know he did something like that? Still being in contact with him after all. How does it feel knowing hes dead?"

Scott, still wearing a poker face leaned forward.

"I dont know why the fuck your so salty at me but... how does it feel to have blood on your hands? Knowing that you killed someone? Pinning it on someone else just because you dont want to pay the price?"

Now it was Clays turn to put a hand on Scotts shoulder.

"Ssshhh calm down. Both. For gods sake please."

"You know I thought you guys were decent human beings. What a waste of time- get your shit together." He stood up.

"Monty was a friend. And what he did was wrong. But that doesnt mean I cant be mad."

He then left the cafe.

"Will he shut up?" Alex sounded concerned.

"Yeah. He will" Clay just simply said.

___

It was late afternoon as they left Monets and went separate ways.

"Theres something you didnt tell me. You're hiding something."

"About what?"

"About what Winston told you."

"I already said everything."

"Didnt we swore not to have any secrets?"

Justin sighed.

"Look. We dragged someone who was already dead into something he never did and probably never could have done. Yes- I... together with Ani- planned this whole thing but know... I think it was wrong. But I wont turn anyone in."

"You didnt answer my question. What was it he told you?"

"Why are you so desperate to find out?"

"Because I'm trying to understand."

Justin sighed again.

"Winston is fucking mad at us for pinning the murdern on Monty. Thats why he does it. He loved him."

"Yeah but why would he love him? After all he did?"

"Clay how the hell should I know? I cant look into Winstons head but I guess he saw something in Monty we never did."

"Cant imagine that."

"Yeah and just because you cant means that no one else can? Winston told me about Montys childhood. That his father had a pretty creepy friend- this friend knew about Montys little secret. And took advantage of it. Winston told me that Monty was sexually abused too. After the assembly you damn well know that this is a touchy subject for me."

Clay just looked at him- he knew that Justin wasnt finished.

"I mean... it was wrong doing this to Tyler.... but wasnt it also wrong for a father to treat his son like this just because hes different and not living up his expectations? Is it ok for a kid to endure this all? That his father never cared? Monty was his own greatest enemy. Like Winston said he was much more weaker than me. I turned to drugs, eating up my pain. He let his anger free. So that everyone around him suffered to. It doesnt excuse his shitty behavior towards us all and the attack on Tyler... I just wonder if he would have beem able to change? With a better surrounding, better friends. A supporting family. You cant compare him to Bryce... or me. It doesnt work like that."

"Justin... you regret covering up what Jess and Alex did?"

"I dont know - I'm torn in two... I feel bad. Kinda. You understand?"

"I do..."

They went home together.

While Scott and Winston met at the police station.

Scott greeted Winston.

"You made it."

"Well sure- its imporant to tell the truth." Winston said.

"You know Clay invited me over to a meet up. I went. And I sae whom you gave the card to. Why Charlie?"

"... He deserved it. He snitched behind his back. And he was the last on my list anyway. He needed to see that everything comes back with a little bit more backfire."

Scott chuckled.

"What is this list even about?"

"I visited everyone who stood near him- more or less. Clay knew about Montys and my thing. Justin was friends with him. Charlie was the only person je trusted, Tyler his victim. And I visited Deputy Standall too. Just to clarify some things. Thought about visiting Alex and Jessica too but then I realised that they're going to be in trouble soon enough."

They walked towards the door.

"When we're finished there... Theres another thing I have to tell you..." Winston whispered.

#winston williams #monty de la cruz #scott reed #13 reasons why #13rw #13 reasons why season 3 #13rw s3 #13rw season 3 #13rw season 3 spoiler #13rw s3 spoiler #13 reasons why season 3 spoiler #one shot #fanfiction

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ourdreamsrealized · 6 years

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Chapter Three: To Love a King

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3

A/N: Wow…This was a long one, and I apologize for how much time it took me to get this out. School was very busy, and then once I had the time to work on this, I was experiencing writer’s block. It ended up being 16 and a ½ pages and 6625 words. I actually am quite proud of this chapter, and it will probably be the longest chapter in this series. I don’t think it’s the best I’ve written, but I am happy with it to post it here. I hope to have the next chapter for you guys sometime next week.

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Thor Odinson (God of Thunder) x Reader

Synopsis: When you meet Thor for the first time, he’s a happy-go-lucky hero in need of your help, but as more chance meetings happen and a relationship begins to blossom between the two of you, you begin to realize that there is a lot more to this amazing man than meets the eye.

Inspired by @champion-ofthe-sun‘s post: { x }.

Rated: R

Warnings: Sexual Themes, Mild Gore, Triggers (Such as War) & Language

“…and Mr. Lee in room 130 has been having some bowel issues. I got him up to the bathroom a few times, but I’m worried about how loose his stools are.”

You considered the nurse’s words, nodding your head as you looked over his chart. “Alright…I’ll have a stool culture ordered again. If it smells as bad as you’re suggesting, I want to make sure he doesn’t have C diff.” You shook your head with a sigh, handing her the manila folder and leaning back in the chair. “Until then, just as a precautionary measure, I want everyone wearing gloves when entering that room. I can’t put him on full contact precautions without a confirmed diagnosis.”

“Makes sense,” the nurse, Victoria, said, getting up from her chair. “Anything else?”

“No.” You chewed on your bottom lip, crossing your legs as you went over a few things in your mind.

“Well, then, get going. Don’t you have a date with Georgina’s son tonight?” Victoria asked, putting away Mr. Lee’s chart and pulling out another one from the cart.

“I do…” You got to your feet, placing your pen in your lab coat pocket. “It’s our third date, actually.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shrugged your shoulders, lifting your arms from your sides for a moment before letting them fall back to place.

Victoria fixed you with one of the stares she usually reserved for a client or family member that was feeding her bullshit. A light, partially penciled brow was arched as she pursed her lips. “Liar. At this stage in the game, you’d be floating on air.”

“And who says I’m not?” you asked, coming to stand beside her, arms crossed over your chest.

“I do. I can tell just by looking at you that you’re not crazy about him, just like you weren’t crazy about Jeremy or Kevin or Peter or…”

“Okay. Okay.” You stopped her by lifting up a hand. You didn’t need everyone on the floor to know your history. “What’s your point?”

“Don’t lead the poor guy on, and take some time off dating. It’s clear you’re not over something or someone in your past.”

“You would have made a much better psych nurse. You know that, Victoria?” A chuckle escaped your lips as you turned your back on her and made your way towards the break room. You punched in the code, your left five digits wrapped around the door handle.

“Yes, but I like where I am now.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” You glanced over at her, using your foot to keep the heavy door open.

“Because you’re my boss.” She winked at you before heading over to one of her assigned patient rooms.

You grinned stupidly at her comment, and your steps became lighter as you grabbed your work bag and jacket before heading out of the unit and down to the lobby. Once out in the late afternoon air, you relaxed some. It had been a long day, and, honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was go on another date with a guy you knew you weren’t ever going to be serious about.

Such a shame, too. He was basically the perfect package: good-looking, smart, a gentleman, looking to settle down, makes decent money, has future plans…

But he’s not Thor.

You mentally scolded yourself for that comment because you really shouldn’t have been comparing a mortal man who worked with a banking company to an Avenger/god. Plus, you hardly knew Thor. You met him only twice before, so your feelings for him were completely founded in physical attraction.

It was superficial, so why hadn’t you gotten over him yet? It’s been two years, for heaven’s sake!

It must have been the thousandth sigh that left your lips that day, but this one didn’t help you any. Maybe Victoria was right…Maybe you should step out of the dating scene for a while, just until you moved on.

You pulled out your phone, unlocked it, and found Nick’s contact information. You called his cell number, placing your smartphone to your ear as you descended the stairs outside the hospital building to the sidewalk.

“Hello?” Came out in a friendly baritone two rings later.

“Nick?”

“Yes?”

“Hi. This is Y/N.” God, this was really hard. Always was, and you were pretty sure it would never get easier. “Listen, about our date tonight…”

“You want to cancel.”

His voice was laden with disappointment, and, in that moment, you wished you still didn’t carry a torch for Thor. You could have seen a future with Nick; if you liked him as much as he liked you, the two of you probably would have gone the distance.

“Yeah…I’m really sorry. I just am not in the right state of mind for anything serious right now…” you scoffed, waving down a taxi. “I really wish I was.”

“…I do, too. But, if you ever do feel you’re ready for something more, you have my number.”

“You’d be the first guy I’d call.” You tried offering some comfort with that statement because, really, Nick deserved it. He had been nothing but sweet to you.

His chuckle was half-hearted, but he genuinely thanked you anyway before you both bid each other goodbye and hung up.

You closed the door of the yellow cab, telling the driver your home address before sitting back against the seat. You looked from your phone to the city outside your window. A particular tower caught your attention, one you had spent a lot of time in just a few years ago. It was the last place you saw Thor, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to now.

The Avengers was on its way to destruction; the cracks were plain to see even during the events of Sokovia. Tony and Steve never saw eye-to-eye, and since no one really took an official leadership position after S.H.I.E.L.D. left the picture, the two most likely in the group were constantly butting heads while the rest of the members watched on, picking their own sides. Because of the drama and without a solid organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. to be your employer, you decided it was time to move on.

Of course, you only moved passed your time with the Avengers. Not with Thor. Perhaps, if you had had the chance to say goodbye, things would be different now.

Dwelling on the possibilities and what ifs made you choke up, so you forced yourself to think of less heavy things, such as dinner plans for this evening now that you weren’t going out and the list of things you had to do this coming weekend. Groceries, laundry, bills…The menial tasks.

Occupied by such things, transit time sped by, and before you knew it, you were in front of your building and handing the cab driver a couple of bills. You thanked him before heading up the stone stairs to the front door, and you were in the middle of opening it when you heard someone calling your name.

“Y/N!”

You froze at the deepness of the voice, knowing its owner almost immediately. You turned your head towards the direction your name had carried from, eyes widening as you took in the sight of both Thor and Loki, in street clothes no less. Although, the new garb did nothing to help either of them blend in. Thor was in jeans and a sweatshirt, but his long blonde locks were unmistakable. And Loki wore a pitch-black suit, his dark curls free from any bindings as he watched his brother come over to you.

“Thor?” You let go of the door handle, descending a few steps as a smile stretched across your face. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for my father, Odin,” Thor replied, stopping on the sidewalk in front of your building. He pointed his umbrella at you. “Did you just come home?”

“Yes. I was working, but if you two need help…” you glanced at Loki, still a bit wary of him, before looking Thor in his beautiful blue eyes, “I would love to offer my services.”

And that was how you ended up here. The death of the king of Asgard, a long lost sister (that you knew about from mythology by the way), and a whole other realm away.

God, you hoped you would still have your job after this. When you agreed to help Thor find his father, you didn’t think it would take more than a couple of hours. Yet, here you were, months later in one of the most degrading outfits you had ever had the displeasure of wearing.

You honestly felt like princess Leia, with just a thin, gold-colored bra to cover your chest and a long skirt, in a similar fabric, that started at your hips and went down to your ankles. You’d think such a garment would offer some coverage, but, nope, both sides of the skirt had slits up to the waistband.

The Grandmaster had also insisted that your neck be exposed as well as your feet, so shoes and having your hair down was not allowed when you were in his presence. He also gifted you with gaudy, poorly made jewelry, such as large hoop earrings and a multitude of bracelets.

You spent most of your time with, surprisingly, Loki, with no hide or hair of Thor. It was disgusting watching the God of Mischief kiss up to the Grandmaster, but you couldn’t say you were doing much better. You remained mostly silent, deciding to pretend you were mute, when they first found you among the garbage.

You really didn’t know how you managed to avoid the orgy parties, but Loki had been kind enough to make up excuses for you. Although, there were a few times that you showed you outright refused to be involved in such behavior, especially with The Grandmaster, of all people.

Still, he was the least of your concerns. Bruce was on this planet, and had been for a while, long before you and Loki showed up. However, he was not himself. He was constantly in his Hulk form and was quite childish. He was the Grandmaster’s champion, and you had seen him in action; he was completely taken by the crowd. Hence, him being fine with staying here and obeying the Grandmaster.

Your other concern, which consumed most of your days, was Thor. Had Hela killed him? You hadn’t seen him anywhere on this miserable planet, and Loki had not gotten word from him either. The thought of him being dead was too much to bear, but you soon accepted that maybe that was what had happened. Why else would he not come for you or Loki?

“Mute! Drink!”

The Grandmaster’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you realized that he had been referring to you. The nickname, Mute, was given to you when you refused to give your actual name, and it stuck, unfortunately. Even Loki would call you by the name.

You moved from your spot, standing beside him, and poured some of the dark liquid from the pitcher you held into his gold gauntlet. He lifted his other hand to tell you to stop, and you did as he asked, moving back to your spot.

“Are you excited for this match, Mute?”

You nodded your head, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. These competitions were getting rather mundane, considering you could always predict the outcome. If any contender even got close to defeating the Hulk, the Grandmaster would cheat.

“This one should be very interesting…” he smirked, sitting back in his seat as his giant hologram began to rile up the crowd.

You glanced at Loki, who sat across the box, leaning forward on his knees, elbows resting on them as he watched the challenger’s side intently. You wondered why he seemed so genuinely interested in this one; he usually only feigned enthusiasm.

Your gaze followed his to the contender’s door, seeing that it was now fully open. A small gasp blew passed your lips, and you brought up a hand to suppress anymore noise from your gaping mouth.

It was Thor. Even from all the way up above the colosseum, you knew it was him. Thor’s broad shoulders were unmistakable, and his muscular build was a dead give away. You had never seen anyone as big in stature as the God of Thunder.

But could he defeat the Hulk? Maybe, if it was a fair fight, but he wasn’t just dealing with the green mutant; he was dealing with the Grandmaster, who would not see his Champion lose.

You glanced at Loki again, and this time he caught you, nearly jumping when he saw your glare. He obviously knew that Thor was here, but he decided not to give you that tidbit of information. Why? Did he want his brother to be beaten to death?

What a stupid question. In the past, he would have done the honors, given the chance.

He would get an earful from you later.

Your attention turned back to the arena, where you saw Thor being booed relentlessly by the crowd. Above their negativity, the Grandmaster’s voice could be heard, announcing his champion.

You wondered how Thor would handle this. He did not know that he would be put up against a friend, but, somewhere in the Hulk, you knew Banner was there. Surely, he would recognize the Asgardian god, but then what? What would the Grandmaster do if his champion refused to fight?

Well–your eyes flickered to the Grandmaster for a moment before returning to the arena–you would soon find out.

The door that Hulk resided behind was torn to shreds as he entered the arena, his roar filling the air as he lifted his powerful arms. The war cry was followed by a shout of joy from the challenger, something no one was used to hearing.

You cracked a smile. Only Thor.

But your amusement was short lived as you watched the two converse. It was clear that the situation was escalating, but why? Didn’t Banner recognize Thor?

When Hulk rushed forward, his violent intent clear, you ran forward, placing your hands on the glass in front of you as you suppressed the urge to scream. You’ve seen what the Hulk could do, and even though Thor was his opponent, the Grandmaster would surely intervene if he got the upper hand.

This could only ever end one way.

Thor dodged his first attack, rolling to the side before bouncing to his feet. You bit your bottom lip, wincing from both the pain and how hard Thor was hit by the Hulk’s gigantic hammer. He skid across the ground, digging his weapon into the ground to eventually stop himself from flying further.

They then exchanged blows, Thor using twin blades, and Hulk still utilizing his supersized tools. You watched, holding your breath and nearly crying out when you saw Thor thrown into the colosseum wall, rock crumbling around him. He recovered, hitting his opponent back with a force much stronger, sending the green mutant through the colosseum wall.

The crowd went silent, and your heart stopped. As much as you worried for Thor, you did not wish harm on Bruce. He had always been kind to you, always inclusive of you.

Thor seemed to be as concerned as you, heading over to where Hulk had landed. You saw Bruce move, dazed and unsteady. You watched with bated breath as Thor held out a hand to him, an offer of truce, and you hoped the Hulk would accept it. He watched the blond god as he carefully approached, reaching out a hand…

For a moment, your racing heart slowed, and you felt joy, realizing that this must be it. This must be the end of the fight.

But it wasn’t.

Within the blink of an eye, Thor was being thrown around, the Hulk smashing him against the ground repeatedly. No mortal man would have survived the first blow to the head, even with the armor Thor sported.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as you looked on, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

Thor was sent flying, crashing to the ground with a horrible thud that you barely registered over the Hulk’s victorious roar. The spectators joined in, spurring him on, while the underdog got to his feet, now holding Hulk’s hammer.

The fight continued on, and it was a close one. There were times you were sure Thor would prevail, but then the Hulk would prove you wrong with a brutal attack. Eventually, it came down to just fists, no weapons, and when you saw him on top of the God of Thunder, repeatedly punching him, tears streamed down your face because you knew that had to hurt.

How could he bear it?

Then, just when you were about to give up completely, a bolt of lightening pushed the Champion off of his challenger. Now, it seemed Thor had the upper hand, and you had never seen such power before. He was a walking storm, each hit packing a punch that echoed like thunder.

The name being chanted from the stands switched. It was entertainment unlike any they had seen before. No one had given the Hulk such a hard time.

And that’s when the Grandmaster decided to do it.

In convulsions that made your own skin crawl to watch, Thor fell to the ground, and you couldn’t watch as the Champion took the opportunity and did what he did best: smash.

A sob escaped your throat as you turned from the glass. Almost immediately, you were in Loki’s arms, one of his palms on the back of your head, cradling it to his chest.

“Is he okay?” you whispered softly as the noise of victory died down.

“I can’t say, but I don’t think he’s dead,” Loki responded in a soft voice. “Not yet, anyways.”

Leisurely, deliberate claps reached your ears, and you lifted your head from under Loki’s chin to see the Grandmaster smirking at you. The expression on his face was enough to make you physically ill, but you held yourself back, pressing your lips together in a firm line.

“What a show, Mute,” he said, shaking his head as he stepped closer to you. “Were you really that taken with the Lord of Thunder?”

God. You wanted to correct him. God of Thunder. You clenched your fists.

“Well, I’ll be kind, then. Be grateful.” He laughed, folding his hands in front of him. “Since he and my champion are such good friends, I think I’ll allow them to be roommates. They can train together and give me more shows as good as this one. And, for providing such good entertainment, I’ll throw the Lord of Thunder a little bone…”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not sure you were following just what he intended to do with any of you, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice.

“A bone?” Loki asked, a hint of malice in his tone as he tightened his hold on you.

“Why he no wake?”

You let out another sigh, reminding yourself to keep patient and calm, even if this was the twentieth time the Hulk had asked that question. “Because he was badly wounded, Hulk.”

“By me?” He almost seemed proud.

“Yes, by you,” you stated as you kept your eyes on Thor’s peaceful face. You moved carefully, so not to disturb him, as you dipped your cloth in a bowl of water the Grandmaster “oh so graciously” gifted to you. You wrung it out as best you could, keeping the lower half of your body still.

You had already examined most of Thor’s body earlier, looking for broken bones or any signs of internal bleeding. After the beating he went through, he should have had at least a few fractures, but there wasn’t a hint of swelling anywhere on his body, just a few minor cuts and bruises.

He really was a god.

“Why you hold him like that?”

Your cheeks flushed at the question. Why did the Hulk have to know why you were keeping Thor in your lap?

“It makes my job easier,” you answered. It wasn’t quite a lie. You could see a lot of his cuts closer up, and making sure you had cleaned them well enough was less difficult this way. “Plus, you won’t share your bed.”

Your green companion huffed at that, turning on the mattress to show you his back.

You shook your head at his childishness, wishing Banner would take over already. While Hulk did have his likeable moments, he had become quite the narcissist since becoming the Grandmaster’s Champion.

To say you were a little ticked off at him for treating Thor as an enemy was an understatement.

A groan from the person laying on your thighs made you still your hand, only gently dabbing at a particularly bad cut on his brow. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open only to be squeezed shut again as he lifted a palm to the top of his head. “Ow…”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, lowering the arm that was currently tending to his wound.

Thor opened his eyes again, gaze focusing on your face above his. “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

He shot up to a sitting position before groaning again, his body swaying slightly. You touched his shoulder, urging him to be more considerate of his condition.

Apparently, he was more concerned with your presence than his own well-being. He turned to face you completely, his legs crossed, blue orbs wide. “You ended up here, too?”

You nodded. “Loki arrived before me.”

“Wow…It is so good to see you!” he exclaimed, a boyish grin on his lips as he took in your appearance. “Are you okay? Did Loki look after you?” He paused, lifting an eyebrow. “Why are you dressed like that? That man…the Grandmaster? He didn’t lay a finger on you, did he? If he did, I swear to you, Y/N…”

You lifted your hands, attempting to calm him down. “I’m fine, Thor, really. Loki did watch over me…in his own way…And despite the get-up I am forced to wear, the Grandmaster has done nothing more than leer.” This knowledge seemed to placate the man before you, and he let out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping.

His attention then shifted from you to the bowl and bloody rag next to it. “Were you caring for me?”

The way he phrased the question sent heat to your face, forcing you to bow your head. “Yes…Although, you did not need much first aid.”

“Regardless, I thank you for it.” He nodded, his calloused fingers brushing against your bare shoulder in a gesture of gratitude.

All was silent for a moment, save the Hulk’s snoring, until Thor parted his lips to speak again, his brows furrowed. “Your eyes are red. Were you crying?”

Slightly embarrassed that he had noticed, you chuckled nervously, still avoiding directly looking at him. “Oh…uh…I was at the match, and at the end, I thought you were, well…”

“Oh…You were watching the fight, then.” His baritone voice seemed flat. “It brings me great joy that you worried so much for me, but, as you can see, thanks to you, I am more than fine.”

“Yes. I seem to forget that you are a god.” You smile, trying not to dwell on his hand, which still rested on your left shoulder. It slid down to your palm, his fingers engulfing it as he brought your skin to his lips.

“Thank you, again. I seem to always find myself indebted to you.” His kiss lingered, and you knew you had to be red from head to toe because of it.

“It’s uh…no problem,” you replied, averting your gaze as his hands slipped from yours.

Thor got to his feet, turning as he took in his environment. “Where are we?”

“This is the Hulk’s room.” You stood, bending down to take the bowl of water from the floor. “He spends most of his time here or training.”

“I see…” he trailed off, heading towards the window. “Do you know how the Hulk got here?”

You met his gaze over his shoulder. “When I asked, he said he flew here.”

“Flew?” he whispered, mindful of the sleeping giant as he turned partially toward you, the sun illuminating the perplexed lines of his face. “How? He can’t fly.”

“I don’t know, honestly. I would assume the quinjet, but…” you shrugged, not quite confident in that assumption. You hadn’t thought to ask Hulk about it, and if it was on this planet, you weren’t sure it was in working conditions. Scavengers had probably dissembled most of it, selling or finding new use for its parts.

“That is very likely…” he said, falling silent as he looked over at Banner. He sighed after a few moments. “I’ll just ask when he wakes. We’ll need his help to escape.”

“He won’t want to,” you informed him, the corners of your mouth falling. “I already asked him if he would help me escape, but even when I begged, he absolutely refused to.”

“What? Why?” Thor’s brow knitted together.

“Well, I think he likes the attention he gets here. You’ve seen how they cheer for him in that coliseum.”

“I will talk to him,” Thor stated gravely, bringing a hand up to his face to stroke his beard. “We’ll need the help of the Valkyrie as well…”

“The Valkyrie?” Your face lit up like a Christmas tree, and you took a step closer to Thor. “They are here?”

He chuckled at your excitement. “One is. She’s actually the one that brought me here…But it won’t be easy to convince her…” His mood deflated as he said this. “She holds an immense amount of hatred towards me.”

“Why is that? From what I’ve read, they fight for Odin.” You shake your head, confused.

“They did…I don’t know what happened,” he exhaled, closing his eyes briefly. “This won’t be easy, but at least I have you on my side…” He trailed off, eyes narrowing as the focused on you.

Heat crawled up your neck as you withstood his intent stare, but it only got worse when he took long, deliberate strides to stand right before you, his hand lifting to touch the small, metal crater that was inserted into your skin. It matched his, and its purpose was no different. Should you act out, you would be punished.

You heard Thor’s sharp intake of breath, his lips pressing into a taut line. “Have they used this?” The tips of his digits caressed the skin near the obedience disk, causing you to unconsciously shiver. You prayed he didn’t notice.

“N-No…I haven’t given them a reason to.”

“Good.” His muscles relaxed, the severity of his expression disappearing some. “This complicates things. I have to find a way to get that off of you.” He withdrew his hand, backing away from you. “How long has he been asleep?”

“Huh? Oh…Hulk? He went to bed just before you woke up.” You blinked, cursing yourself internally for sounding like such a lovesick fool. You’d be beyond shocked if Thor didn’t know the effect he had on you and why.

“Shit…Okay. I’ll wait.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want to get him any angrier.” He sat down by the window, resting his elbows on his knees. After a few seconds of silence, and you awkwardly standing after putting the bowl down on a table, Thor turned to you. “Come, sit. Tell me of your life since Ultron.”

You gave him a hint of a smile before moving to sit beside him, and he shifted in the seat to face you better. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Since the Battle of New York, whenever Loki showed up, you weren’t the happiest of campers. You could tolerate him, but you didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him; for good reason, too, because he did try to betray both you and Thor during your escape from Sakaar, just as the God of Thunder had anticipated.

Now, however, as you were attempting to defend yourself against an undead army, you were the happiest you had ever been to see the God of Mischief. You were never a fighter, and maybe with a safe place for the Asgardians, you could actually begin to help those injured.

Loki spotted you immediately, yelling to his people to board the ship before making his way over to you. Once he reached you, he grabbed you by the shoulders. “Thor has told me that you have the power to heal.”

“Well, in a way…” You were about to explain how you had no magical abilities, that your methods were entirely based on medical science, but you decided that now was probably not the time.

“Come.” He wrapped an arm around your torso, fighting his way back to the ship. “I have found a healer!” Loki announced loudly over the sounds of frantic citizens. They made a path for you, allowing you to get aboard the spaceship ahead of many.

As soon as Loki had declared you someone that could help, people were rushing forward with friends and family members, asking for your help. It was very had to do with very limited supplies, but luckily, many were willing to offer up parts of their clothing as bandages. Quite a few people also had jugs of water, similar to canteens, while others had filled them with some form of alcohol.

Despite help from many, you were one woman, and it was very difficult to keep up with the number of patients you were receiving, some far more wounded than others. You tried to prioritize, and it became clear that this was also quite the task. You could not see all your patients at once, so it was hard to determine who was more in need of care than another. You tried your best to recall your training, including the ABCs of prioritization: Airway, Breathing, Circulation.

Finally, a brave Asgardian offered up her services, followed by a few others. You quickly explained what you needed them to do, giving them those that came in with less complicated injuries. With more people helping you out, you moved onto those that were hurt fighting the undead. And, god, you had never seen so much blood…You didn’t typically deal with stab wounds or missing limbs on your unit of the hospital, but, with your knowledge of how the body worked, you knew what you had to do.

The sounds of agonizing screams as you cleaned deep lesions or bound gaping holes would haunt you in your sleep. You were sure of it. Without access to painkillers, it was very difficult to care for those in writhing pain. You would have given them alcohol, and some did ask for it, but you were reserving it for sterilization because it did better than water.

What really killed you, though, was when you were unable to save someone. Their loved ones would be circled around you, and with one look at the patient, you knew, even as an Asgardian, they would not survive. You still did your best, but by then, those around you would realize it, too.

You didn’t have time to mourn with them, to exercise proper family-centered care, as you were taught to do.

Tears would stream down your face as you moved to the next person that needed you, and it didn’t sit well with you. Your own heart would tighten because you didn’t deal with death often–you were in the business of preventing death–and it meant you failed. While the more rationale side of you knew that there was nothing you could have done, your emotions refused to listen.

It made it hard to concentrate, especially with the sounds of war right outside. At some point, thunder had joined the cacophony, and you wondered if Thor had been victorious against Hela. But the fighting would of stopped right? The steady stream of patients would have stopped. It didn’t. You were still overwhelmed.

Why didn’t it stop?

The ship began to move, and your head cleared enough for you to focus again. You had all the time in the world to freak out later.

More people rushed in–the last, you thought and hoped–and you quickly urged a man close to you. “Keep the pressure on his elbow, please!” He just nodded numbly as you got to your feet, shouting above the screams. “If anyone needs medical attention, please come to me!”

And then you were flooded again. More volunteers came forward.

“What is your name?” A man with dark skin and eyes unlike any you had seen came forward, lowering a woman to the ground before you.

“I am Y/N.” The words were hurried from your throat as you ripped some of the woman’s cloak to wrap around the gash on her shoulder. “Hold my hand,” you told her, and she nodded, wrapping her fingers about yours. She squeezed, hard, when you doused her wound with alcohol and then drenched it with water to, hopefully, deaden the alcohol’s effect.

“So you are the one he spoke of,” the man whispered, helping the woman to her feet after you had wrapped her injury. She leaned on him as he stared at you, studying your features. “You are the Midgardian that lifted Thor’s hammer.”

“You know about that?” you asked, a bit breathless as you ripped more of your skirt for bandages.

“Yes. I am Heimdell,” he introduced himself with a small smile. “On behalf of all the Asgardians, I thank you for your help.”

“It is no trouble,” you said before seeing to a man who had lost his arm in battle. On your way to him, shots rang out, and you froze, eyes darting to the man who held two guns, similar to those that you had on Earth. You turned to Heimdell. “We are leaving Asgard?”

“Yes. Thor has asked that we do.”

“But he is still fighting?”

Heimdell gave you a look, one that answered all the questions you had lined up in your head. Your chest constricted, making it impossible to breathe, but you ignored the feeling and marched over to the man that was in need of care.

If Thor died, he would not die in vain. You would save as many of his people as you possibly could.

But, as fate would have it, Thor was on the ship with Valkyrie and the Hulk minutes later, making a ruckus as he called for you. When he saw you, he did not hesitate to take you from whoever you had just finished tending to and bring you into his arms.

“You are well,” he said, chest heaving as he pulled you in closer. He smelled of sweat and blood, but you didn’t care. His hug calmed you in ways you did not understand; after just being through a war, something you had never experienced before, you were moments from falling apart.

You peered up at him, choking on whatever words you had for him when you saw…

“What the fuck happened to your eye!?”

And the blond bastard just let his head fall back, his one remaining eye squeezing closed, as his booming laugh filled your ears.

“There.” You took a step back, exhaling softly as you lowered your arm to your side. “I’ve never had to patch up an eye, but I suppose there is a first time for everything.”

“Yes. I suppose so.” Thor’s lips stretched into a grin, but something about it was fake. How could he smile in such times, when he had been through so much?

You stared at him for a moment, and, evidently, your scrutiny was too much for the god. “What?”

Moving to sit beside him on the bed, you took his hand in both of yours, peering at his face. “How are you?”

“What do you–?”

“This couldn’t have been easy for you. Hell, I’m still having trouble with everything that happened, but you’ve just been through a lot more than I have, Thor. You lost a father, you killed your sister, and your home has been reduced to space dust. And that’s just the main stuff.”

Thor chuckled lightly, but there was nothing cheerful about it. He put his other hand on top of yours, patting it gently. “All that happened, yes, but those are matters I don’t really have the energy to think about. What is really bothering me, is the role I must assume. I have people I have to take care of.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as his blue eyes captured you, making you unable to look away.

“How do you do it?”

You leaned back in shock, not having expected him to ask you that, of all things. You scoffed, pulling away from him slightly. “I…Wow. Um…Thor, being a king and being a nurse are very different things.”

He shook his head, the wrinkles accompanying his laugh genuine this time. “You are wrong, Y/N. Your training, while not inclusive of the aspects of governing a country, does include the basic thing that a king must have.”

“And what is that?”

“Compassion.”

You giggled despite his seriousness. “Then why are you asking me what you already know?”

And for the first time since he met Valkyrie, you experienced a sight that set your heart aflame: Thor being embarrassed. He bowed his head with a tint of pink to his face. “I suppose you are right…”

“Thor.” You scooted closer to him, meeting his gaze. “You will make a fine king.”

The corners of his mouth lifted as he moved his dominant hand from yours to slowly brush your cheek with his knuckles. “Thank you. For everything. And I am sorry…So very sorry…”

Your breath caught in your throat as Thor sincerely apologized to you, and water blurred your vision of him. “Don’t apologize.” You begged. “Please.”

“Oh, Y/N…” You felt him touch the side of your face, fingers brushing the soft curve of it. “Do not cry.” His voice cracked as he said this.

“You know…” you sniffled, lifting a hand. “I just…I saw a bit what war is like today as well as its casualties…And despite the fact I should have been focused on what I was doing, maybe I would have saved a few more people…”

Thor hushed you, cupping your face in both his large hands, thumbs swiping away the drops that spilled down your skin. “You did more than enough. Asgard thanks you for it.”

“But…all I could think about was how much I didn’t want to lose you…” you sobbed, closing your eyes to avoid seeing his reaction to your confession. “And I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want to go back to Earth and just go on living like this never happened because I won’t be able to…”

Thor’s fingers stilled long before you finished speaking, and when all was silent, save your staggered breathing and the pounding of your blood organ against your chest wall, you felt warmth upon your tear-stained cheeks. Strong arms pulled you into a body that radiated heat, and supple lips brushed against yours.

“I won’t be able to, either.” The words were soft against your mouth as a palm came up to run along your temple. “I need you, too.”

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