Its a post apocalyptic world. Three girls fall in love. Their camp they are staying at gets attacked. They run, one gets separated. Two years later, they meet again in this sanctuary in the trees. Secret entrance, can't be seen at all, secret password. The one that got separated finds it and finds out when she's there her other lovers have been there for a long time. Except, the two lovers that were there had fallen apart, they fight, they aren't together anymore. The one that has returned tries to get them all together again. She has thought of nothing but all three of them being together again.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, Yuri Plisetsky, Vicchan (Yuri!!! on Ice), Makkachin (Yuri!!! on Ice), Yakov Feltsman, Phichit Chulanont
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them AU, Chance Meetings, Meet-Cute, Romance, Adventure, Slow Burn, Magical Katsuki Yuuri, Muggle Victor Nikiforov, Sexual Content, Flirting, Discrimination, Magic
Summary:
He was just an ordinary wizard with a great fondness for magical creatures. He had no serious goals in his life and he was content traveling the world to help with handling and finding new homes for the beings he adored with his whole heart. He did not have great expectations from the future.
Until his long time idol, the great Viktor Nikiforov crashed into his life and turned everything upside down.
Literally.
Or the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them AU no one asked for.
Hey first of all, so sorry I didn't post any new New Places, Friendly Faces this monday (maybe next too), I'm going through a lot right now and I just wasn't able to work on it in time.
However, this shit looks super cool and I am going to be tooting my own horn for all the works I have completed
I am only able to write sporadically at the moment (hence not being able to keep up with that update schedule 😭) but I would love to receive any prompts, ideas, thoughts, requests, anything anyone wants to send - and I'll be reaching out, too.
Summary: Months after Yokai’s downfall, Hiro receives a surprise in the mail: a special invitation to this year’s Stark Expo. With Fred for company, he leaves the protection of the city temporarily in the hands of the rest of the team and flies across the country to meet the man with twice the brains and bank account of Alistair Krei and several times the infamy.
But of course, it can’t be that simple, can it? Really, after how his last expo went, he should have seen this coming. (BH6/Avengers crossover)
Warnings: Shit is going down.
Chapter 18: Patience
AO3
By the time Steve Rogers returned to the apartment at around nine in the evening, Hiro was sitting on the couch, frowning at his laptop. He'd had enough time to angle the screen away from the door so that his host couldn't see it, but not enough to put it away. Just in case the captain had a mind to ask what he was doing, he threw out a quick distraction.
“Fixed your heater.”
There was a pause. “What?”
“Your heater was kinda faulty. It should be fine now.” Hiro glanced at him briefly before turning back to his screen. “I fiddled with your router, too. Should stop your Wifi from cutting out every time you use the microwave.”
“Thanks,” Captain Rogers said at length, faintly bewildered.
“No problem.” Hiro finished closing down his current task and replacing it with the Reddit homepage. “Thanks for... uh. Letting me stay, I guess.” What else was he supposed to say to a world-famous superhero who was letting him crash on his couch?
“It's not a problem.” As he spoke, Captain Rogers crossed the room from around the sofa and settled down in one of the armchairs. Hiro chanced another look at him. Apparently the captain wasn't above wearing shoes on the carpet. “You okay sleeping on the couch?” Rogers went on. “You're the guest here – I'm happy to switch with you.”
Hiro shook his head vigorously. “I'm fine. I can pretty much sleep anywhere, don't worry about it.” His throat felt dry all of a sudden, and he tried to gather enough moisture in his mouth to swallow.
“You talk to your family?”
“Yup.” Except Baymax, he remembered.
“Good.” And the weird thing was, he sounded like he meant it. It wasn't just a platitude, or a neutral acknowledgment of Hiro's answer. Captain Rogers didn't know Hiro, he didn't know Aunt Cass or Gogo or Wasabi or Honey, but he sounded like he was honestly glad that Hiro had called them.
A little more of Hiro's unease faded, and he shifted his legs underneath him to a more comfortable position. Emboldened, he glanced up from his computer screen again, swallowed his shyness, and opened his mouth again.
“So... how's the investigating going?” he asked. When Captain Rogers looked back at him, Hiro noticed for the first time how tired and haggard he looked. He wondered if the captain had slept at all the night of the attack. “That's what you're all doing, right?” he ventured further. “Looking for who attacked the Expo.”
“Yeah, that's about right,” the captain answered. “We're all working on it.”
Hiro nodded, keeping his thoughts in his head. He wasn't about to say that he kind of knew what that was like. He wasn't about to tell him that he wished all-nighters didn't have to be a thing for superheroes and an even worse thing for college-age superheroes. He certainly wasn't going to tell this man that he recognized the look on his face – that gray, baggy-eyed, half-desperate, headache-induced look that could only come from dragging your tired body far past its normal capacity in pursuit of answers – because he'd seen it on his friends and his own face in the mirror. He could think it, but he couldn't say that. Maybe one day. But not now. “Do you know who did it?”
“Yes.” There was no way Hiro could miss the note of caution in Captain Rogers' voice. There was a dark, thoughtful look on his face, as if he was mentally sorting his information between what he could and couldn't say.
Hiro let the silence stretch for a moment before pressing his luck again. “Can you tell me?”
Captain Rogers looked him in the eye, and it took a lot of nerve for Hiro to look back. “Are you sure you want to know?”
It was partially a pride thing, a small part of Hiro that wanted to glare at him resentfully and say yes I want to know, I'm a big boy and after tackling a supervillain to the ground and diving into a collapsing portal, I think I can handle knowing who tried to kill me this week. But he kept that in and shrugged instead, as if it was only an issue of idle curiosity. “Anybody I know?”
“If you've heard of Hydra.”
The chill that went up Hiro's spine was almost immediate. He had, in fact, heard of Hydra. He didn't know a whole lot of people who hadn't heard of Hydra, between World War 2 history lessons and the more recent, memorable total-exposure incident. “I downloaded the files that went up,” he admitted. “Still have 'em somewhere.” He hesitated. “That was you, right?”
“I did my part.”
Hiro nodded. “So... it's them, then,” he murmured after a pause. “They tried to attack an airport, didn't they?”
Captain Rogers sighed. “Yeah, they did. A lot of people are stranded – including you. But we're working to fix the problem, make it safe to fly home again.”
For a moment Hiro considered telling him that three of his friends, his aunt, and a robot were all set to hop into a van and motor across the country to un-strand him, but decided to put that off until he had a more solid plan from them. “I can wait,” he said. He considered bugging the man for more news about Fred's condition, but decided not to. Rogers loooked way too tired to deal with his nail-biting right now. If there was news, then he'd mention it, wouldn't he?
Captain Rogers got up carefully while Hiro was conferring with himself. “One more thing I should mention,” he added, breaking through Hiro's thoughts. “Friend of mine tends to come through sometimes. He's got a key – though, I'm not sure that's how he gets in. You can't miss him – he's about five-eleven, doesn't smile a lot, needs a haircut. That's, uh... that's James. He looks scary, but he won't hurt you.”
Hiro filed away the information. “I'll... keep that in mind.” Once he had left, Hiro closed down the browser window and brought his earlier project back up to glare at it.
Stupid mystery file. The thing was locked so solidly that getting into it was like trying to chop down a tree with a screwdriver and a nail file. With his luck, even when he did get it open, the contents would probably be buried under useless code. And encrypted.
To say nothing of the possibility that it was all a trap, and once he did get it open he'd be giving some faceless hacker a direct line into his own system. Not that he hadn't taken precautions; he'd made sure to empty his files onto an external hard drive before he even touched the locked file to try and open it. But still, it was definitely something to watch out for.
Hiro's scowl deepened. It was nice to have something to keep him busy, but at the same time, his progress was agonizingly slow. If you wanted me to see what was on this, why did you make it so damn hard to get into it?
---
Honey fidgeted nervously, wishing not for the first time that she hadn't been so quick to volunteer for this. At the time it had made sense. For one thing, she was the latest in line for “babysitting duty,” as the others had taken to calling it. For another, she was the best for the job from a practical point of view as well. Cass was the busiest when it came to preparations to leave. Gogo had the bedside manner of a particularly crusty drunk. And Wasabi...
Well, Wasabi seemed to have a lot on his mind lately, and already too little room in his schedule to sort it out. Why burden him with one more thing?
No, she still considered herself the best one for the job, even with the pile of clothes and necessities currently cluttering up her bedroom floor as she put off packing. But the fact that she was the best didn't mean she had to enjoy it. Bracing herself, Honey stood in her apartment's living room and eyed the bright red case in front of her.
“Ow.”
At the sound, Baymax activated and inflated in front of her. He was smoother and quicker about it than he once was; that was one of the many improvements that Hiro had made when rebuilding him. Maybe speed during activation and deactivation hadn't been so much of a priority for the robotic nurse that Tadashi had envisioned, but for a mechanical superhero, it was a much-needed upgrade.
“Hello, Honey Lemon.” Baymax offered a small circular wave in greeting. “Is there something that I may-” He stopped midsentence, blinking. “Your pulse is above its normal rate. Accompanying brain activity indicates that you are under a significant amount of stress. What is wrong?”
Honey considered her options. Backing out at this point was not one of them; she should have known that he would detect her mood as soon as he was powered on, and there was no way she could lie to him. Should she rip off the metaphorical band-aid? If not, how much time should she devote to dancing around the topic?
Finally, she sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears. “There's... really no easy way to do this. Not this late, anyway.” She tried not to wince. “I'm so sorry, Baymax, we should have told you sooner.”
The robot tilted his head to the side. “Told me what?”
Honey braced herself again and forced herself to look up into Baymax's eye cameras. “The Expo... didn't go the way we hoped. Hiro's okay,” she added emphatically. “He's okay, and he's safe, but... it's gotten complicated.”
Baymax blinked at her, and she wished desperately that she could read what was going on in... whatever the robotic equivalent of a brain was. CPU? Motherboard? Technology was not her forte. “What happened?”
“There was an attack,” Honey explained. “Hiro and Fred got caught up in it, because... well, they probably dawdled getting out and tried to help.”
“Were they injured?” Baymax broke in.
“Um.” Honey's throat bobbed. “Y-yes. Fred worse than Hiro, I-I don't know the details, but...”
“I see,” Baymax remarked when Honey's voice trailed off.
“A lot of people got hurt,” she went on quietly. “But we've heard from Hiro already, and he says he's... somewhere safe. He's okay, Baymax.”
Silence between them stretched the seconds into what felt more like minutes. Honey could feel her heartbeat in her throat, and noted that Baymax could probably detect that, to. “I would have preferred to accompany them,” Baymax said at length. “Though, admittedly, I am not certain that my presence would have prevented them from being harmed.”
“I know.” Honey nodded, trying to distract herself from the growing tightness in her throat. “I know. Me too, Baymax. But – that's not all. Air space in New York is shut down, so it's impossible for him to catch a plane home. So we're going to take the van and go get him.”
“That is good.” Baymax nodded approvingly, then paused for a moment. “When you say 'we', you are referring to-?”
A smile took over her face before she could stop it. “You're coming too,” she assured him. “Don't worry. That's not a mistake we're making again. We're all going.”
“I am glad.” It wasn't just words; Honey could hear the note of gratitude in the robot's voice, and wondered if he'd learned that or if Tadashi or Hiro had programmed it in. “I do not wish to be left behind. And...” He hesitated again. “Your assurance is trustworthy, however...”
“You want to make sure he's okay yourself,” Honey finished, nodding. “It's okay, I understand. I feel the same way.”
“My range is insufficient to scan him from this distance,” Baymax replied. “I would like to do so as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, good thinking.” Honey smiled at him again. “And – hey. It's a little late now, and he's three hours ahead so he's probably asleep, but... tomorrow morning maybe you can call him.” Honey tilted her head at him. “He has his phone with him. I think it'll do both of you good.”
Baymax nodded. “That is a good idea. I would like to remain active until then, if I may.”
“Sure.” Honey shot a glance over her shoulder, toward her bedroom and the haphazard pile on the floor. “In fact, why don't you help me pack? It's going to be a long trip for all of us.”
“Of course. Thank you for telling me this, Honey Lemon.” Baymax blinked at her. “I am concerned for Hiro and Fred. But I am glad that we will see them soon.”
“Me too, Baymax.”
---
Steve woke with a short gasp, clawing his way out of the fading gunshots in his memory, and into the mismatched softness of clean sheets and a springy mattress. The abrupt shift left him floundering for a moment as he reminded himself that he wasn't going to sink through his bed and end up on the floor underneath. That wasn't going to happen. It was a mattress, not a sinkhole.
Finally he found himself fully awake and breathing somewhat steadily. Sighing, he wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and pressed his head back against the pillow again.
Sam had been quick to pick up on his trouble, back when they'd first met. After sleeping on the ground at worst or military-issue cots and bedrolls at best, the transition back to proper mattresses – proper twenty-first century mattresses no less, had made sleep a very strange and difficult experience. Even now, after all his time spent in this century, it was hard to adjust. Lately he'd had too many naps on strange couches, cheap motel beds, and car seats to get used to sleeping in his own bed.
Could be worse, he thought. I could be on one of Tony's memory-foam things. Steve didn't care what century he was in, frankly; those things were weird.
Steve shut his eyes, rolled over, and was about to try to go back to sleep when something jerked him wide-awake again. His bed creaked as he raised his head, then lifted himself up on his elbows. He kept still, eyes open and ears pricked.
He heard it again, and could identify it now that he was listening for it. It wasn't just a late-night noise; in fact, it was too soft and high to be anything but a human voice. Steve slipped out of bed, hand straying to the drawer on the bedside table where his gun was. The sound came again, too quiet and far away to be intelligible. This time, though, Steve could recognize it.
Was Hiro talking to someone?
Steve deliberated, and left the gun where it was. If there was an intruder and push came to shove, then he could defend himself well enough by hand, especially when it was dark and he had the home-field advantage. Almost noiselessly, he slipped out of his room and crept down the hall, straining his ears.
Hiro's voice came again, and as Steve neared the living room he could recognize a sort of slurred stream of Japanese, and paused with the realization that his guest was probably talking in his sleep. After a moment he kept moving, until he was stepping out into the living room again.
The room was dark, mostly silent, and – aside from the huddled form under the blanket on the couch – empty. Steve had been holding his breath, and now let it out in a sigh of relief.
Cautiously he drew nearer, but Hiro was still and breathing steadily on the couch. Steve waited for another minute or two, but no more noises seemed to be forthcoming. There was nothing that would offer a clue as to what was the matter – if anything was the matter at all – and Steve wasn't about to wake him up and ask him. Certainly no late-night phone calls or unexpected visitors, which he had considered in the first place.
Finally, Steve turned and slipped back out of the room, feeling annoyingly wide-awake. The kitchen was separated from the living room by a wall, and far enough down the hallway that the light and noise wouldn't disturb the boy. Tea – he needed tea.
Massaging his temple, Steve stepped into the kitchen and reached for the light, only to stop short at the dark, almost wraithlike figure leaning back against the counter.
A sipping noise. Then - “Your houseguest has nightmares.”
Steve let the breath hiss out through his teeth. “Hey, Buck. When did you get in?”
“Half hour ago.” Steve clicked the light on, and found Bucky standing with his hands around a half-full glass – he'd found the lemonade. “I didn't wake him up.”
“Thanks.” Steve filled a mug with water and put it in the microwave. Peggy and Falsworth would have had a thing to say about making tea that way, but it was after two a.m. and he needed sleep as soon as possible. “What was that about Hiro?”
“The kid,” Bucky went on. “He has nightmares.”
“I just heard him talking in his sleep.” Steve shook his head. “Came in too late, though. He's pretty quiet now.”
“Mm.” Bucky went quiet for a while, sipping at his glass of lemonade, and the two of them stood in companionable silence. Steve stopped the microwave before it beeped, took out the mug, dropped a teabag in, and set it back on the counter. When Bucky spoke again, his tone was matter-of-fact. “It was a nightmare. He went quiet at the end, but he was almost yelling. And crying. I would have woken him up, but I probably would have made it worse.”
“Thanks, Buck.” Steve checked the color of his tea. “I'll try and talk to him later if I can.” He glanced at his old friend's face, knowing that Bucky probably wouldn't have arrived at this hour and stayed this long for a social call. “Find anything good?”
“I've been looking for records. Just looking for names.”
“You could have woken me up, you know.”
“One of us should sleep.” Bucky shrugged.
Steve checked his tea and tried not to sigh. “What did you find?”
“I've been looking for their contacts,” Bucky explained, setting aside his own glass. “Not agents. Just... people they use. People who owe them. Could use your help tomorrow.”
The tea was as good as he was going to get it. Steve picked it up and sipped, savoring the calming affect of warm liquid in his stomach. “You're better at finding people like that than I am.”
“It's not that.” Bucky shook his head. “They're not agents. They're just... people. They're scared. I'm scary. Trust me, you'll help.”
“Well, when you put it like that... all right.” Steve nodded. “How long's it been since you slept?”
His friend hesitated. “I'm not tired yet.”
“How long, Buck?”
Another moment of reluctance, and then – “Forty-seven hours.”
Steve sipped his tea. “Stop here before you go out again. Get some rest.”
His friend shook his head. “It's not what it sounds like, Steve. I'm different from what I was. I stayed awake for twice that when I was-”
“You're not.” It came out more sharply than Steve intended, and he paused to drink more tea and try again. “You're not. You're not what you were back then.”
The silence stretched between them, and Bucky would not meet his eyes. His brow was furrowed, eyebrows knitted together in thought, before he finally looked up briefly and spoke again. “I'm not... what I was before then, either. I'm not, Steve.”
More tea, this time to drive back the painful tightness in his throat. “I know that. You've changed. I've changed, too.”
“Not as much.”
“You're my friend,” Steve informed him calmly. “That hasn't changed at all. That won't change.” He got Bucky to meet his eyes again, if only briefly. “Vita rays or no vita rays, we're still human. You need to sleep.”
Bucky was silent again, long enough for Steve to wonder if he was still being obstinate. Finally, he nodded. “I take the floor,” he said firmly.
“You get a pillow,” Steve retorted. “If I have to suffer with modern luxuries, the least you can do is share it.”
Something like a smile crossed Bucky's face. It was close enough for Steve to mentally shrug and call it one.
---
Hiro was dreaming of deafening sirens and ashes in his lungs when something wrenched him from the depths of a nightmare. He floundered into wakefulness with a start, to find his pillow vibrating underneath him. It took a brief moment of confusion for him to remember that he'd left his phone there.
Groping in a half-awake fog, he manage to retrieve it and fumble it up to his ear. “H-hello?” he whispered.
“Hello, Hiro.” And that was all it took. Two words in that voice, and the teeth-rattling hum of panic died. In the dark of early morning, eyes still wet from dreaming, Hiro managed a smile before murmuring back.
“Hi, Baymax.”
“It is currently six-fifteen a.m. in New York,” the robot continued. “I apologize for waking you.”
“No,” Hiro said quickly. He lay back down again, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Don't – don't be. Don't be sorry for that. Thank you.”
“We are coming, Hiro,” Baymax informed him. “We expect to leave later today, or tomorrow at the latest.”
“I miss you.” In his grogginess it simply slipped out, but Hiro wasn't about to take it back.
“I would like to see you as soon as possible,” Baymax replied. “It is not good that you are alone.”
“Yeah.” Hiro's voice, still at a whisper, rasped dryly out of his throat. “Yeah, I know.”
“Please be careful, Hiro,” Baymax went on. “We are coming to get you.”
His throat closed, cutting off more words. Leftover nightmare fear rose up within him, along with the desperate want to go home. It was all Hiro could do just to shut his eyes, take a deep breath, and let it out again.
Archiving had not been Galdor’s original profession. Brought from Eregion when Legolas had yet been young, Galdor son of Gulthor had acted as Standing Spell-Caster after the death of his predecessor, Miriel of Mithrim, until Morien had come of age and potency.
Okay, guys, I've been seeing a fanfiction going around but my phone glitches every time I try to read it. It's rated M and attached to a picture of Rei and Nagisa having a pizza/slumber party. Could anyone tell me what it's called or give me a link please?
