Dee

Zuko said, “When I saw the Dai Li attack you, I didn't think. I just helped.”

And I heard, “When I saw Azula attack you, I didn't think. I just jumped.”

Manifesting the Final Agni Kai in NATLA.

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Sketches + full view of the lightning burn under the cut!

(Fantasy!Katsuki Bakugo x Healer!Reader)

🌸This fic is part of my 4K Special🌸

Word Count: 969

Debrief: an injured stranger wanders into your campsite. You help him out.

Case Notes: it’s been awhile since I’ve written anything. Life’s been kind of kicking my ass as of late so I don’t think this is that good 😭 I hope you enjoy it anyways Nonnie.

The first thing you noticed was the blood. Not because of the alarming amount of it, no. It was because the man it belonged to was somehow still walking.

The forest around your camp had long since settled into its nighttime chorus. Crickets chirped from the undergrowth, the nearby stream murmured over smooth stones, and your small fire crackled softly as bundles of freshly gathered herbs dried beside it. It was peaceful.

Then branches snapped somewhere beyond the tree line, reaching your ears. You looked up to see a figure emerged from the darkness, stumbling into the edge of the firelight.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in armor that had clearly seen better days. One pauldron was dented, his cloak hung in tatters, and a longsword rested across his back, the blade nicked from heavy use. His ash blond hair was windswept, spiked in every direction as though he had just argued with a hurricane and won by the skin of his teeth.

One gloved hand was clamped tightly against his side. Blood seeped steadily between his fingers, darkening the leather and dripping onto the forest floor. He looked exhausted, and he also looked incredibly annoyed about it.

You set your basket of herbs down beside the fire, calling out to the stranger who’d stumbled upon your camp, “You’re bleeding.”

The man glanced down at the wound with all the enthusiasm of someone noticing a stain on their boot, “I’m aware.”

His voice was low and rough, carrying the clipped confidence of someone used to giving orders rather than accepting help from anyone.

You stood, folding your arms across your chest and nodding to the log you’d been sitting on, “Sit down.”

“No.”

“You’ve lost enough blood that you’re swaying, sir.”

“I’m fine.”As if the forest itself wished to contradict him, his knees buckled ever so slightly.

He caught himself against a nearby tree before straightening, glaring at the trunk as though it had betrayed him.

You waited. Silence settling between the sound of the cicadas. Finally, with a frustrated click of his tongue, he stalked toward your campfire and dropped onto the fallen log beside it.

“I sat down,” he muttered. “Happy?”

“A little.”

That earned you a sharp glare. His eyes were striking. Crimson, bright even in the dancing firelight, narrowed with enough intensity to make most people back away.

You’d dealt with grumpier patients however, “Let me see.”

“I don’t need a healer.”

“You wandered into a healer’s campsite while leaking blood across my favorite patch of moss, that’s divine intervention if I’ve ever witnessed it.”

“I wasn’t aiming for your moss.”

“You still owe it an apology.”

For the first time, something shifted in his expression. Not quite amusement, but close to it. You knelt beside him anyway, soft hands gently moving to rest against his on his side, “Move your hand.”

His jaw tightened, “You’ll make it worse.”

“I’ll make it better, this is literally what I do for a living. Let me help.”

He hesitated just long enough to prove he hated taking orders before finally lifting his hand away.

You inhaled quietly. The wound stretched across his lower ribs, just beneath the edge of his breastplate. Deep claw marks tore through leather and fabric alike, the flesh ragged around the edges.

It was a fresh wound. No more than an hour old. Your fingers hovered just above the injury as you examined it, “Dire bear?”

“Hm.”

“So it was a bear.”

“It won’t be bothering anyone again.”

There wasn’t a trace of boasting in his voice. Just fact. You glanced at the enormous claw marks carved into his armor.

Closing your eyes, you rested both palms over the wound. Magic answered immediately. It always did for you, years of training under your master under your belt.

A familiar warmth bloomed beneath your skin, flowing from your chest down your arms until golden light spilled between your fingers. The glow spread across the torn flesh like liquid sunlight, weaving through muscle and skin with practiced precision.

The air smelled faintly of lavender and rain.

The man’s breathing caught. Not from pain though, from surprise.

Healing magic wasn’t uncommon, but powerful healers were rare enough that many people never encountered one.

The wound slowly closed beneath your hands. Skin knitted together, the blood disappeared. Bruised flesh softened until only faint pink scars remained where torn muscle had once been.

The golden light faded. You leaned back with a small sigh, “There.”

The stranger blinked. He pressed cautious fingers against his side, twisting experimentally.

No pain. No stiffness when he leaned. Nothing. Perfect like it had been before he had adventured out.

He looked from the healed skin to you. For a long moment, he simply stared, “… You’re good.”

It sounded less like a compliment and more like a realization, “… I’ve had practice.”

Another silence settled between you. The fire crackled. Leaves rustled on the trees overhead.

Finally, he cleared his throat, “… Katsuki.”

You tilted your head, a bit confused as your gaze met his face.

“My name,” he clarified, awkwardly, “It’s Katsuki.”

A small smile found your lips, introducing yourself by name, “It’s a pleasure, Katsuki.”

Something unexpectedly soft crossed his face before disappearing beneath his usual scowl.

The next morning when you wake, the embers are gently cackling in your campfire and the stranger— Katsuki— is no where to be found. What’s interesting though, is that there’s a note left in your basket, now containing more herbs and wildflowers than before with a note.

‘if you find yourself in the kingdom of mustafu, come find me at the castle.’

You smile to yourself, looking from his messy handwritten note to the trees above where the birds are chirping, and find yourself thinking about making a trip into the kingdom.

💥MHA Masterlist💥 🦇Return to the Batcave🦇

✨Join The Taglist✨

YOU KNOW WHAT YES I DO BECAUSE IT SUPPORTS AN ESSENTIAL PART OF HER ARC. SHE LEARNS THAT NOT ALL BENDING IS BAD AND NOT ALL BENDING IS GOOD, AND THAT BY EXTENSION NOT ONE NATION OF PEOPLE IS ENTIRELY BAD OR GOOD. SHE CANONICALLY HELPS FIRE NATION PEOPLE AS THE PAINTED LADY AND WHEN SHE DEFIES HAMA TO SAVE THE CIVILIANS SHE IMPRISONED. THIS IS SUCH AN INTEGRAL PART OF HER STORY THAT IN HER LAST FIGHT SCENE OF THE ENTIRE SHOW, SHE LITERALLY SUBDUES ONE FIREBENDER WHO REPRESENTS THE EVILS OF THE FIRE NATION AND WAS NAMED AFTER THE FIRE LORD WHO ORDERED THE FIRST RAIDS ON HER VILLAGE IN ORDER TO HELP ANOTHER FIREBENDER WHO EARNED HER FORGIVENESS AND SACRIFICED HIMSELF TO SAVE HER, THEREBY RESTORING BALANCE TO THE ELEMENTS BY SUPPORTING NATIONAL UNITY AND JUDGING PEOPLE OFF OF THEIR CHARACTERS RATHER THAN THEIR BACKGROUNDS.

Drumrolls 🥁😁 I've been meaning to create these since a long time 😍

Some of these don't exactly look like stained glass but I liked the designs, so I kept them🥲

Feedback is appreciated as always🫶🏻

IMPORTANT : If you use these dividers please tag @uzmacchiato for credit in the post you use it.

➡️ 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ✨

CENTERED SMALL :

CENTERED LONG :

BANDS :

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