#on good days he wears leg braces or uses walking crutches but he usually sticks to the chair because he's just so easily exhausted now

[meltlilies]

north oak, 2081.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Photographs, Cuddles and Hot Cocoa (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: Happy birthday, @flowers-in-your-hayr​ 🎉 May your day be the most beautiful! 🌺 Hope you’ll enjoy this silly thing I wrote. And @maggiescarborough​, thank you for planning this special challenge.

Of course, I chose an Ivar's moodboard. And now it’s Christmas in May 🎄

Once again, I wholeheartedly thank you, @inforapound​. You’re the best beta ever. And my friend 🌷

Obviously, the moodboard belongs to you, @flowers-in-your-hayr​ 😉

Summary: You’re tired and wanted to cuddle but Ivar’s got other plans. You’re not thrilled.

Warnings: fluff with no plot; Ivar may be a little OOC, sorry about that.

Words: 2066

"Ivar, where are we?"

Looking around, frowning, you don't even try to hide how annoyed you are, your head resting against the car window. He gives you an amused smile, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheek.

"You don't remember? I thought you'd recognize this place."

He seems slightly disappointed, which doesn't help your mood. Because you should be the disappointed one. Well, you probably are. More disappointed than he is, anyway.

"No, I don't."

He lets his hand fall back into his lap, clearly surprised by your increasingly irritated tone.

"Just look around, love."

"That's what I'm doing, Ivar! I'm not sure what you want me to say. That we are in the middle of nowhere? Okay, we are!" Blowing up, you raise your voice. "I'm not stupid, Ivar! I know we're on the heights of Kattegat, not far from the chalet since we didn't drive long. But we could be anywhere! It's white, white and white! There's snow everywhere!!! How am I supposed to recognize this fucking place, Ivar???"

"Okay, take it easy Y/N!" Smiling, he squeezes your knee. It's infuriating how he can stay calm on the rare occasions when you're the one who gets angry. "Remember, we're on vacation and we've got all the time in the world. Just tell me… what's wrong?"

You soften in spite of yourself when his forget-me-not blue eyes peer into yours.

"Imtiredandwantedtocuddle." You mumble, suddenly shy and embarrassed, sucking on your lower lip.

You're speaking the truth. Christmas Day with Ivar's family had been surprisingly successful. Sigurd had behaved, Aslaug's cooking had been, as usual, scrumptious and the gifts appreciated. Your somewhat grumpy lover had even been cheerful – well, most of the time. So yeah, everything had gone well. But it had been exhausting. Waking up at dawn, baking a cake, a two-hours drive to Kattegat, a whole day of smiling and keeping the conversation going, you and Ivar eventually had arrived at the Lothbrok's chalet very late last night, for a well deserved week's holiday, just the two of you. And this morning, all you wanted to do was cuddle, wrapped in a thick blanket. But here you are now, wearing your brand new snow suit, in the middle of nowhere, at the insistence of Ivar, your stubborn fiancé.

Ivar stifles a chuckle, scrunching up his nose. "Fuck, I love your pouty face, Y/N!"

Sticking your tongue out at him, you can't help but close your eyes, purring with delight as his hands cup your face. You love him so fucking much.

Still, you're not ready to admit defeat. Not just yet. "I'm not that easily bought, Ivar!"

Flashing his trademark smile, he gives a peck on your forehead, laughing. "I know, love!! If I promise tons of cuddles later, will you be less angry?"

"Maybe." A whisper escapes your mouth while a faint smile appears on your face. As much as you'd like to, you can never stay mad at him for long.

"Then I promise." His voice is soft now, his smile genuine, his eyes full of love, and you know he won. You'd do anything for this man, for his happiness.

Intertwining your fingers with his, you bring his hand closer, kissing it gently while releasing a light sigh. "Okay, let's start again." You stop, glancing around one more time. When you speak again, there's not the slightest hint of annoyance in your voice. "Mind telling me where we are? Because I swear to you, I don't have a clue."

Leaning forward, Ivar points at a snowy tree out on the right side of the car. "Doesn't that oak remind you of anything? Really?" Frowning, he looks truly astounded, maybe disappointed too. Realizing that you probably unwillingly hurt his feelings, you stare out at the winter scenery, paying particular attention to the majestic old tree. And it just hits you. Shit.

"Oh gods Ivar, I'm so sorry… Of course I know where we are. But you know, with all that snow, I had no bearings. Yet I should have known. Oh gods, I can't believe I didn't recognize…" Stopping your useless rambling, you can't help but cringe, mentally scolding yourself. Your hand grazes his cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Swallowing hard, you lower your gaze, slightly ashamed. "I'm so sorry, Ivar. That's our tree."

Your tree, which regally overlooks a small pond. This is your little paradise. Your secret place, where you first kissed eight years ago, after he gave himself to you like never before, revealing all his fears and insecurities. Your secret place, where he proposed to you last summer, crying in your arms, gobsmacked that you said yes.

"Yes, our tree." Smiling softly, Ivar grabs his camera from the back seat. "I'm glad your memory returned, I was beginning to wonder if this place meant as much to you as it did to me." He winks at you, but you can see concern in his eyes. Ivar will never be completely sure of your love, no matter what you say or do, because he thinks he doesn't deserve it.

"It's the best place in the whole world, Ivar." You reassure him, your hand barely squeezing his thigh. "I'll gladly forego a long cuddle session if it means spending an hour here with you." Tilting your head, you reach out, fingers skimming his jaw, before kissing him tenderly. You're the first to pull away, looking intently into his eyes. "Now tell me, my love, why did you choose to come here today? If this is about asking me to marry you, you remember I already said yes, right?" Chuckling, you pepper light kisses over his face as he wraps his arm around your waist, drawing you closer.

"Actually, I've wanted to take pictures here during winter for a long time." Backing up just enough to show you his camera, he gives you one last peck on the lips. "I've never had the chance since we usually only come here in July or August. So yeah…", he shrugs, looking sorry, "that's why I rushed you a little bit this morning. But just look…" Getting excited, he gestures wildly, showing you the scenery around you. "All this fresh snow, it's beautiful. And the brightness today is amazing. A perfect day for perfect pictures. It would have been a shame not to come."

His words bring a broad smile to your face. You love seeing him like this, passionate and committed. Photography is his happy bubble. A world where his legs don't matter, where he doesn't have to compete against his brothers. A world which taught him patience. And gods, he's good at it! One day his pictures will be exhibited, you're sure of it.

Scratching the back of his neck, he scowls for a second, his hand squeezing yours. "I realize just now that it was silly to bring you here. You could have stayed at the chalet. Shit Y/N, I'm sorry. Do you want to wait for me here? You could stay in the car, so you won't get cold. I promise to be quick. What do you say?"

Shaking your head, you put on your woollen gloves, your pompon beanie already on your head. "No way, Ivar. Of course I'm coming with you."

Your hand on the door handle, you give him a questioning look. "Where do you want to go? At the risk of repeating myself, there's snow everywhere."

"I know that," he giggles at your obvious, rolling his eyes. "We'll go to the pond of course, where else?"

Doing a double take, you stare wide-eyed at him. "To the… pond?" Your high-pitched tone giving away your unbelief, you see Ivar furrowing his brows.

When he speaks again, it's with an expressionless face, apprehension clear in his voice. "That's what I said, yes. Is there a problem?"

A problem? Of course there is. The truth is, there is a problem. A long list of problems.

First, walking in the snow is always challenging for Ivar, his leg braces and his crutch. And right now, even the wheelchair friendly path leading to the pond is nonexistent, covered with a thick layer of snow.

Second, it's too cold out here. Too cold for his legs, which will stiffen in no time, causing him terrible pain.

Third, he woke up this morning unwell, wincing, swallowing with his orange juice a double dose of painkillers while complaining about how the previous day had been stressful and tiring.

You're about to talk, to explain, when you catch his pleading eyes. He knows exactly what you're thinking. There isn't a sound out of him, but it's not necessary, you can't miss the silent question in his gaze. “Please. Don't."

Overwhelmed with mixed feelings, you remain silent for a minute. You hate seeing him in pain, struggling to take a step and knowing he'll pay for it later makes you sick. Yet, you don't want to be the one clipping his wings. You can't be the one restraining him. You're his lover, not his mother. Your task is to trust him, be there for him no matter what, not to coddle him. You have to remember that your high school sweetheart is not as reckless as he used to be. He knows his limitations as well as his abilities. He's learned not to overwork himself.

Biting your lip, you release a shaky breath. "I won't." Your whispered answer to the question he didn't ask brings a faint smile to his face. He nods, closing his eyes for an instant, relief written all over his face. "Thank you."

***

"I'll be right there, love." Leaning heavily on his crutch, Ivar slowly crosses the kitchen, heading to the open-plan lounge, two mugs of cocoa in his free hand.

Getting up off the couch, you rush to him, a warm smile on your lips. "I got them." Reaching out, you quickly grasp the cups, putting them on the coffee table before returning to him.

As soon as you slip your hand on his waist, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, a gesture expressing a sign of affection as much as the need to be helped.

He's in pain and exhausted. You know it, you see it but it was worth it. His radiant face, his joyful exclamations, his childish enthusiasm were worth it. Watching him taking pictures for almost two hours, his eyes full of stars, raving about the pristine white landscape was worth it.

"Here, careful." You don't let go of his arm until he sits down, cursing under his breath. "Don't tell me 'I told you so', please,” he mumbles, hiding a wince as best as he can.

Kissing his forehead, you laugh, shaking your head, “How could I? I've told you absolutely nothing,” before grazing his left leg. "May I take off your braces?" Knowing that he trusts you and he won't mind, you get to work right away, gently removing the heavy contraptions. He gives you a grateful smile as you carefully lift his legs, helping him to settle on the wide couch before snuggling against him, the both of you tucked up under a fleece blanket.

The crackling fire, the invigorating cocoa, the warmth of your man, the love you feel, your two beings radiating happiness and those cuddles you were craving for, everything is perfect.

You're dozing off when Ivar breaks the silence, his fingers brushing your side. "How about a bath?" You lazily raise your head, yawning and stretching. "Hmm… A relaxing bath… Sounds like a good idea,” you say, as your hand lightly rubs his thigh, feeling each and every knot.

Sighing with relief, Ivar sits quietly for a while before grabbing your wrist, his suddenly husky voice startling you. "No… not necessarily relaxing… See… that's what…" sucking on your earlobe, he's hard to understand as he puts your hand on his crotch, "… I was thinking about."

Bursting out laughing, you playfully squeeze his cock. "Is that so? Well, all you can think about is sex, right?"

Hand on his chest, Ivar gasps, playing that he’s offended, making you laugh even more. "How can you think so little of me? Of course not! All I can think about is you, Y/N. I just can't help it, you're so beautiful. And so fucking perfect!"

Gods. This is your man. And he's so fucking perfect too!

🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @saldelys​ @waiting4inspiration​ @hecohansen31​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @gearhead66​ @readsalot73​ @lonewolf471​ @milkkygirls​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @maggiescarborough​

[megalony]

Braces

This is a fluffy dad! Steve Rogers imagine that I’ve been meaning to polish up for a while. I hope you all like it, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Masterlist

Summary: Steve and (Y/n)’s son has to wear braces on his legs that Steve knows knocks his confidence a lot. But he decides to surprise Steve after a mission by running properly without them.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce smiled at the scene in front of him, something that didn't happen very often and that was rather rare in all cases. He was currently in the lab, trying to do his work but his eyes kept diverting to look over to where Tony was. Although it was him he certainly didn't act like the Tony Stark everyone knew and got annoyed with after a while. He was standing in front of the metal table in the lab which his nephew James was sitting on with a bright smile that Bruce never got tired of seeing.

Whenever Tony was around his nephew he seemed like a totally different person and Bruce found it rather endearing to see.

Things between Tony and Steve had always been uneasy, it was like they were always getting off on the wrong foot or they always locked horns over the most silly, trivial of things. But when (Y/n) and Steve had James, it cemented the broken foundations between both men. They would hardly ever argue if James was around and he seemed to calm them both down rather a lot, more than (Y/n) could ever calm down her big brother and her husband.

The little boy had a lot of medical problems, some of which related to the problems Steve had before he got the serum and it broke his heart to see his son grow up each day struggling in the same way he had done. They all knew it wasn't Steve's fault, the serum did run through James like it did him but not enough of it. James had asthma like Steve did but not as bad as his dad which was a relief to them for Steve had a lot of asthma attacks and couldn't even run properly with how bad his breathing got.

James was also a very skinny child, taking after Steve again and it caused him to gain illnesses quicker but they was the only illnesses James had inherited from his dad. What Steve was happier to acknowledge was that James was his double, he had the same ash blond hair, the baby blue eyes and the cheekbones and even the curved nose. He had a lot of personality traits like his mother and smarts from her and Tony combined too. He was a mix of all of them and they all loved it.

Tony had taken it upon himself to be his nephews doctor and consultant, he wanted to help and look after him in any way that he could which is why James and (Y/n) were currently in the lab with them.

James wore braces on his legs to help him walk properly, when he was a toddler he somehow managed to walk with his feet sticking out to the sides and he found it very difficult to walk without support. The braces were to help correct his walk and give his legs that extra support and Tony designed them so they weren't so bad looking and hard to manoeuvre. He made them so they were thin but strong and kept moderating them like he did to his suits to thin them down but make them more efficient at the same time.

"Alright then, I'll just adjust these and your all set little man. Why don't you surprise your dad without them on?" Tony encouraged, seeing James' eyes light up at the idea like he had stars captured in his pupils.

"Can I?" He asked, excitement bubbling in his tone causing his mother to smile. He wasn't used to walking very much without the braces on, he relied on them to make sure he continued to walk properly since he was still growing. The thought of running- or at least trying to run- to Steve and show him he was a big boy able to walk better made his smile widen significantly when his uncle nodded that he would be alright to do that.

"Sure, just not for too long."

"Your dad should be back now, let's go surprise him." (Y/n) pitched in as Tony carefully placed James down to his feet before patting his back.

With a smile, Tony leaned against the table as he and Bruce watched James slowly walk over to (Y/n), managing rather well on his own without the support he was so used to. It wasn't as if they were crutches that he relied on to keep him upright, James could walk without them but it was safer and would aid him better if he wore them every day until a stage where his walking was adapted to normal.

(Y/n) handed his bag to him and he slipped the straps onto his shoulders, he never went far without his backpack designed to look like Steve's shield. He took his mother's hand and they exited the lab in search of Steve, knowing they would be back in a little while for the braces to be fitted again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve and Natasha walked down the corridor, both rubbing at their damp hair making their contrasting hair colours look a few shades darker than they really were. The pair had just got back from a mission which took three days and still felt like they were covered in dust and grime.

Even spending half an hour in the shower didn't do much to rid the sticky feeling that Steve got from being in his mud covered suit for hours on end.

Both of them stopped outside the elevator, pressing the button to head up to the lounge in the Avengers tower so they could sit down and try to recover before they eventually had to do something or got another mission come through. Some of the avengers lived at Stark tower, but others like Steve, Thor and Clint had their own homes, though they sometimes stayed over when needed.

"Go on honey." (Y/n) whispered to James, kissing his head before pulling back to watch him make a bee-line for his double. James could see his dad and aunt down the corridor waiting for the elevator and he hoped he would catch them before they disappeared to another level of the tower. James knew not to run too fast, (Y/n) had warned him about that because it would strain his legs and he could pull a muscle or fall which wouldn't be very good for him at all.

"Daddy!"

As soon as the all too-familiar voice reached his ears, Steve felt his heart speed up and he turned to his left to search for the occupier of the voice. Steve hadn't been expecting his son to be at the tower today but he certainly hadn't expected his son to be heading towards him with a bright smile and no braces adorning his slim legs.

A bright smile lit up Steve's features at the rather rare sight of James looking happy to be trying his best to speed walk. It was very hard to get James to want to go out with his braces because he felt awkward with them and as if they were holding him back rather then enhancing him. Steve wanted to take a few steps forward and reach him halfway but he stopped when he realised James was determined to make it all the way down the corridor to him instead.

The moment James got within reach, Steve bent down and scooped his boy up in his arms. He spun round whilst holding James tight against his chest in a comforting hug, knowing he had caught James just in time because his foot had skidded on the polished tiles and he would have fallen if he carried on any further.

"Wow there, soldier! What happened to the braces?" Steve asked in shock, standing up to his full height once again with James secured to his shoulder. He felt his heart jumping in his chest when James wrapped his arms around Steve's neck, hugging him as close as possible since he'd missed him whilst he'd been away.

Steve bounced his boy on his hip but when he noticed James was breathing rather deeply he moved his hand and dug around in the backpack on James' shoulders. He pulled out his boy's inhaler, something Steve had had the luxury of forgetting about until James was a toddler and found out he needed one. The little boy took a few deep breaths to calm down before he managed to give Steve a response to his question.

"Uncle Tony's fixing them, I wanted to surprise you." There was a small hint of sadness in his tone because he knew soon enough he was going to have to go back to wear the braces that corrected his walking but slowed him down at the same time.

"Well you certainly did. Do you think you can make it back up to the lab without them?" Steve whispered the last part in James' ear, seeing his son smile brightly and nod in response to the mini-challenge. Steve always tried to push James to keep going and try harder but at the same time, Steve would stop him if he knew his boy wouldn't be able to do it.

When Steve was younger he never had people trying to encourage him to do things, he had to encourage himself and he didn't want that for his son. As much as his mother had tried to make him feel normal and comfortable and okay, she wanted Steve to hold back and play things safe rather than try and test his limits. He knew that James needed someone to will him on and that was exactly what Steve was going to do, he would try and push James within his limits so he would excel.

"Well done little guy." Natasha chipped in with a smile, running a hand through his hair to ruffle the strands which made him smile before she patted Steve's shoulder and headed into the elevator heading.

Steve pressed a kiss to the side of James' head before he set him back down to his feet, walking close beside his boy just in case he slipped or tripped. Steve could see that James was already starting to edge his feet out to the sides automatically like he did when he was running but he was walking overall much better than usual.

When they got to where (Y/n) was patiently waiting for her boys, she kissed James' forehead, wrapping him up in a congratulating hug before letting him head over to the stairs so she could see Steve.

It felt like a lifetime since (Y/n) had felt Steve's arms binding around her waist, seen his charming yet cheeky smile or felt his lips pressing against hers when in reality he had only been gone for three days. (Y/n) always prayed that any missions didn't last very long because she knew that if three days felt like a lifetime, he would barely get through a week or more without Steve.

"Daddy, come on!"

James' voice broke apart the couple's short-lived moment but the lopsided smile on Steve's face made (Y/n)'s heart skip a beat and told her they would carry this on later. The couple started to ascend up the stairs after their son who was bouncing up the steps like he was a spring or a little excited puppy.

(Y/n) leaned her head on Steve's shoulder as they both watched James, but when they got close to the lab Steve noticed James was slowing down. He was clearly getting tired and he was starting to kick his feet out to the sides, his legs becoming uncoordinated because he didn't have the energy to correct himself.

"Alright super-soldier, come here." Steve wrapped his free arm that wasn't placed around (Y/n)'s waist, around James' front and gently picked him up so he could settle him on his hip to rest his legs.

"Uncle Tony I surprised daddy! And walked up the stairs too!"

James' voice became slightly higher in pitch from his excitement when the three of them entered the lab and his words caused Tony's lips to curve into a smug smile. He knew it would raise his nephew's spirit to try and walk without his braces and impressing Steve would only further elate James' mood.

"See, you won't be needing these for much longer I'm sure. So I've changed the design a little, and the colour scheme is just as his lordship asked. Come on little man."

Steve pulled away from (Y/n) so he could walk over and settle James down on the table. He watched intently as Tony crouched down in front of his nephew and slotted the braces into James' shoes before strapping them just below his knees to keep the metal bars in place around his skinny legs. It didn't escape Steve's attention when the smile James previously had on his lips dampened when the braces were put on his legs. But when he noticed the small Captain America shields at the bottom of the braces, a breathless giggle left his lips.

"Thank you uncle Tony."

"Your welcome." Tony ruffled his hair before he made his way over to Bruce so they could carry on working on their new piece of technology.

Steve shook his head with a playful smile when James looked over at him and held his arms out, clearly wanting to be picked up. Whenever Steve had been away even for just a little while James became clingy wanting to be wherever Steve was and he loved it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you ready to head home?" Steve questioned the little boy in his arms who he knew was rather tired. James nodded tiredly in response, slipping his bag back on his shoulders when Steve handed it to him. Natasha had stolen (Y/n) for a while wanting to catch up and chat and she said she would meet the boys back at their home when she was finished chatting with Natasha.

Steve gently placed James down to his feet and got up himself, putting his leather jacket on before taking James' hand and attempting to leave the room but he stopped when he realised his son wasn't walking with him. He cocked his head to the side, his baby blue eyes pooling with love and confusion as he waited patiently for James to tell him what was wrong.

But Steve found his face falling when James simply held his arms out to him; he wanted to be carried.

"What's wrong soldier?" Steve went down on his knees so he could be level with his boy who was clearly upset with tears glistening in his eyes which made Steve feel panicked.

"I don't want these." James responded quietly, tapping at the braces on his legs making Steve sigh sadly. He took a deep breath before he looked at James with a gentle expression, trying to think how to make him feel better about it but he didn't know what to say to make this better.

"I know you don't, but they're not forever buddy. If you don't have them you'll hurt your legs and your back too." He tried to keep his tone gentle and understanding and James nodded his head but his expression didn't change. He didn't want to walk around wearing braces that slowed him down and made it feel weird when he walked, They annoyed him and made him feel abnormal, not to mention the way people looked at him when he went out.

"I don't like them daddy."

"Buddy, if you wear them then you can train with me more when your walking better. You wanted to join me didn't you?" A small smile tugged at James' lips as he looked down at his feet and nodded in response. He went to the gym with Steve from time to time but didn't do much, he mainly watched him most of the time although Steve encouraged him to do small weights and he helped him with other activities there. It made James happy and boosted his confidence a little so Steve kept bringing him along.

"But I... um..."

"What is it?" Steve asked, a smile on his features encouraging him to talk and say what was on his mind.

"I want to be like you."

Closing his eyes Steve sighed, that was not what he expected to hear and it broke his heart. Truthfully he didn't know if James could ever be like him with the medical issues he had. James might get better as he grew older, his asthma might subside, he was most likely going to walk fine when he was in his teens and no longer had the braces. And if he put on a bit more weight he might be less vulnerable to illnesses, but Steve didn't know if he was ever going to be like him in a physical stance.

But then again, Steve always thought he himself would always be the short skinny kid who spent half his life in a hospital or laid in bed with a cold and yet here he was now.

"What colour are your eyes?" Steve's rather off-topic question caught James by surprise and he looked very confused before he answered as if he thought it was a trick question.

"Blue."

"Just like mine, and what colour is your hair?"

"Blond."

"Correct, and you've got my nose too; you look exactly like me. You have a shield on your back and your a good little soldier, your kind, funny and I know your smart. You're already like me, you're my little doppelganger and I love that about you, but you don't have to act like me or walk and talk like me. You are amazing and perfect as yourself. My little soldier."

Steve didn't want James to grow up and think he had to act just like Steve or even want to act like him, he wanted James to be his own person. He thought it was sweet and rather endearing that his son- his first child, looked the spitting image of himself, Steve loved that. It was like he was looking in a mirror that showed him his younger self. But he wanted James to grow up and form his own person and his own mind, he came to the gym with Steve because he wanted to try and train but Steve didn't want him to think he had to be just like him.

With a soft smile, Steve reached out and wrapped his arms around James, holding him to his chest in a tight, comforting hug before he got to his feet, ready to get them both home.

[sml8180]

Lasting Injuries

I started writing this yesterday when my knee was acting up from an injury I sustained roughly 8 years ago, and it initially inspired me to write this. I HC that Damien didn’t just have a cane for the looks of it, but because he actually needed it due to an old injury. I decided to write a story about what had happened to him, and when I asked in one of the Discord servers I’m a part of what that injury should be, @doctordiscord123 suggested that maybe Will accidentally shot Damien in the knee while showing off a new gun.

This story is the result of that idea, along with SEVERAL odd google searches.

Heads up for the following: Gun violence, poor gun safety, accidental shooting, accidental kneecapping, descriptions of injuries, chronic pain, long term injuries.

Lasting Injuries

William had told Damien that he had something to show him. He’d told Damien to head outside, and wait for him by the treeline, while he grabbed whatever it was he was going to show off from his room.

Damien hadn’t known what he’d expected, but he knew he wasn’t expecting William to show up and show him a gun. It was a brand new revolver, the metal clean and shiny, and Will held it in his hand as if it were meant to be there.

“I got it for my sixteenth birthday the other day!” Will exclaimed, showing off the revolver to his friend. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Damien nodded. He wasn’t exactly a gun person, but he enjoyed seeing his friend so excited. “You do know what you’re doing with that, right?”

“Of course I do! I’ve fired one before, but now I have my own!”

Damien seemed to relax a bit when he learned that Will knew how to handle his new weapon. He’d known it was only a matter of time before he ended up getting a gun, anyways, seeing as he wanted to go into the military some day. Now that his nerves were somewhat calmed, he was curious. “How does it work?”

“It’s simple, really!” Will told him, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “This releases the cylinder,” he mused, pulling back the release to let the cylinder swing out. “And you load it like this,” he narrated, loading a round into one of the chambers, before clicking the cylinder back into place. He stepped back a bit, adjusting his grip on the gun as he went. “You look down the sights to find where you’re aiming, pull the hammer back,” Will looked down the sights of the gun.

Damien trusted that Will wasn’t aiming at him. He didn’t think he should move, until it was far too late. The shot rang out across the manor grounds, and the next thing Damien knew, he was on the ground, unsure of really what had happened. Things seemed to slow as Will set the gun down and ran to him, pulling off his coat and wrapping it around Damien’s knee.

“Just, just stay there, I’ll get help,” Will rambled, sounding shaken as he stood, sprinting back to the manor.

While William was gone, Damien started to feel a sort of burning pain radiating through his leg. It was dull at first, but as the moments ticked by, he could feel it getting worse. Will returned with a couple members of the house staff, along with Celine, who quickly knelt beside him, immediately starting to fuss over him.

He didn’t really remember much after that. He remembered Celine and the two adults fussing over him, making sure that he kept calm. They all brought him inside, and he remembered being loaded into an ambulance, with Celine by his side, holding his hand.

A few days later, Damien was feeling a little more himself. He was still confined to his bed in the hospital, but he was awake and alert. That was when he learned that William had shot him in the knee. William was apologizing profusely, saying he hadn’t meant to, it was an accident, he thought he was aiming at the tree.

“Will, calm down,” Damien consoled. “I’ll be alright, there’s no need to worry.”

Damien didn’t realize just how long it would be until he was up and walking again.

He went through three or four operations in an attempt to repair the damage to his left knee. The shot hadn’t been direct; the round had hit more to the side of his kneecap, shattering part of it, but not shattering the entire joint. The doctors did what they could to piece things back together, but there was only so much they could do. After all the operations, Damien had to go through weeks of therapy in order to even take a few steps. He was on crutches for what felt like ages, he wore various braces for years, and used a cane to get around after that.

He did his best to walk unassisted when he could, being the stubborn man he was, especially when it came time for his mayoral campaign. He wanted to seem strong, he didn’t want the public to see him relying on a cane, didn’t want them to see him limping.

Will had always been apologetic about what had happened; he almost never had a gun out around Damien after the incident. Damien always reminded him that it was an accident. They were just kids at the time, after all, they didn’t know better. He didn’t hold any grudge against his friend.

He’d never admit to Will’s face just how frustrating the lasting toll the injury took on him really was.

There were days where his knee hurt so badly he couldn’t stand. Days where he wouldn’t leave the house because he didn’t want to be seen leaning heavily on a cane with his knee braced. He snapped at doctors, at peers, at his own sister, some days, when the pain and limitations became just too much.

His campaign pushed his limits some days. All the events he went to, the debates, the rallies, and everything else, it all took a toll on his knee. Damien had to be on his feet so much, and he couldn’t just skip out on things; it would make him seem unreliable if he did. He did what he could to stick it out, made as many of the events as he could.

The colder months were a blessing and a curse. The cold often lead to more stiffness in his knee, causing it to be sore more often than not. But, he often wore long coats during colder weather, which he made sure would fall beyond his knees, allowing him to wear one of his braces. It wasn’t his best brace, but it was better than nothing.

It was early spring when the campaign ended, when all Damien could do was wait and hope he’d done enough. He waited inside, his fingers crossed. Justice, a friend from his years in university, was by his side, trying to help calm his anxieties, as well as offering some support to keep Damien’s weight off his injured knee, which was starting to act against the man once again.

Celine rushed in, carrying something behind her back. The results were about to be announced, Damien had to show his face out there, especially if it was him who ended up the victor.

“Celine!” Damien called, as his sister approached. “You said you would be here almost half an hour ago.”

“I know, I know,” Celine stated, placing a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I needed to pick something up.”

“I need to get outside,” Damien told her, already beginning to pull away from Justice. “What did you need to pick up?” he questioned, knowing full well his sister would be following him. He didn’t get an answer, and simply rolled his eyes as he stepped outside, just in time for the man up on the stage to begin reading off the final results in front of him.

It barely registered that it was his name being read off.

“Just a little something for you, Mayor Damien,” Celine finally told him, offering a cane to her stunned brother. The object was brand new, and straight as an arrow; the main body a shiny black, with a silver tip and ornate silver topper.

Damien took the cane in his hands, speechless. It felt as if time had stopped, at least until he felt Celine taking hold of his shoulders and turning him around.

“Well, go on! You need to say something to them!”

The new mayor took a breath, and stood a little straighter as he scanned the audience. Hundreds, thousands of eyes were trained on him. He took a deep breath, and planted the silver tip of the cane on the ground, finding that it felt far more sturdy than his older ones. He took his first steps with it up onto the stage, and felt the wave of energy from the audience wash over him as he walked to the podium with confidence.

They were some of the most confident steps he’d taken since he was a teenager.

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Dark felt fairly decent when he got up in the morning. His shoulders and neck didn’t feel as bad as they had for some time. He felt like today was going to be a good day.

That was until he went to actually get out of bed. His left knee practically gave out on him.

He thought back to that day so many years ago. When Damien had been shot in the knee. That injury had been a part of him for so long. Even though he was no longer in Damien’s body, he could feel the injury all the same.

Dark sighed, looking to the mess of pink hair beside him, still sleeping. Wilford didn’t remember the incident from what he could tell. It was for the best, really. He always claimed that it was simply his chronic pain that occasionally lead to him bracing his knee, or using a cane. He didn’t mention the damage that had been done by a stray bullet.

So, Dark simply braced himself against the wall, going about his usual routine. He showered, did his makeup, got dressed. He was sitting in the chair in the corner of the room when Wil woke up, strapping his brace into place to support his knee.

“One of those days, Darky?” Wil tiredly asked, getting out of bed and approaching his husband, wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders and kissing his cheek.

“Mm-hm. One of those days,” Dark responded, returning his husband’s sleepy kiss.

Wil nodded, and picked up Dark’s cane from the corner. Dark took it from him, running his thumb over the topper for a moment before standing up.

“I’m going to head down to the dining room. I’ll see you at breakfast,” he mused, giving Wilford a final kiss to the cheek before making his way out of the room.

He found an odd comfort in the sound of the silver tip of the cane against the wood floors of the manor. It was a familiar sound, one that Damien had found oddly comforting for years, and one that Dark now found oddly soothing. With the brace on his knee, and the cane in his hand, Dark walked with a surprising confidence, despite the lasting injuries that tried to slow him down.