I Want More Mal Fics

i want more mal fics

⊱┊at the end of the day

— pairing ; malyen oretsev x reader

— warnings ; descriptions of a fight, blood

— note ; first fic/blurb about shadow and bone - also not edited

you watched from the sidelines — wincing at every sound of skin hitting skin; holding your breath whenever mal’s head whip to the side; watching blood spill.

fights between first army men were normal — occurring whenever there were no orders being yelled out to the squadrons, or when sitting in the cold became too much.

pressed shoulder to shoulder with the men and women in the crowd, you were shoved side to side as they roared with excitement — taunting, cheering, and betting on who would come out victorious.

“get him mal!”

“you got this!”

the men that you knew as dubrov and mikhael shouted from mere meters away from you — the look of excitement covering their faces instead of worry and dread.

dread that their friend wouldn’t make it out the same way he entered.

a strong punch to his jaw sent mal tumbling into the crowd, dubrov and mikhael catching his hastily. as they steadied him, mal cast a quick look around the tent, his eyes immediately finding yours.

you didn’t need to mouth a word to him, your eyes speaking enough. be safe.

with a swift nod back, mal readied his hands once more, the white fabric that was wrapped around them stained with blood, growing more red as it absorbed the blood from split knuckles beneath.

and before you knew it — the man standing across from him fell.

—

as soon as the fight finished, you walked off — preparing the things that you needed to tend to mal’s wounds.

what felt like hours, mal had finally arrived — a large grin covering his face, and eyes sparkling as he replayed the fight in his head.

“sit.”

his quick feet brought him to sit on the crate in front of you — the grin still ever so present on his face.

holding a single hand out, mal laid his hand in yours, watching as you unraveled the blood soaked material.

he didn’t speak as he watched your hands work. as rough and calloused as they might have been from years in the first army, your worked gently — hands slowly peeling and removing the wrap without hurting him any further then he was to the best of your ability.

even in the midst of war, you had a gentle soul.

“so, what’d you think?” mal asked, his eyes flickering between your working hands and your concentrated face.

“it was sure something.”

“you’re not impressed?”

“how could I be when your here bloodied and bruised day in and day out due to stupid fights for foreign money?” you set his hand down on his thigh and gestured for his other one.

“hey, foreign money is hard to come by here-“

“it’s foreign money mal — it means that it’s useless here,” you muttered.

despite all your focus on tending to his hands, you still bit back quick and sharp — while your soul was gentle, your mouth wasn’t.

but maybe you had gotten that from him.

“we’ll be rich when we get out of here though,” mal spoke gently, his eyes focused on your face, gouging some sort of reaction.

“if we do mal, if.”

“when.”

sighing you let his hand fall to his lap — the gentleness that was used for his other hand now gone. “fine, when. I just don’t understand why fight have to be a nightly occurrence — can you not take a break for one moment and actually heal?”

“you patch me up after every fight — i’m healed perfectly fine for the next one,” he casually shrugged, pulling new bandages out of your shoulder bag which sat on the grass.

“healing as if physically — not mentally, mal,” you grabbed the material out of his swollen hands, taking it upon yourself like you usually did, to wrap his hands correctly. “a year from now, your hands won’t even be able to write properly-“

“if they can still pull a trigger, then they’re perfectly fine-“

“mal.”

you looked at him with harsh eyes — an ounce of you begging for him to just listen for once. and he did — he leaned back slightly, and lowered his head slightly.

“I don’t mind patching you up — in fact, if I can help, I will,” you tied the knot as you finished wrapping his hand, moving onto wrapping the next one. “but seeing you with split brows, swollen hands, and bruised eyes — I can only take so much. seeing you like that is hard for me.”

mal didn’t speak for a few moments afterwards, waiting silently for you to finish wrapping this hand until he did.

instead of pulling his newly wrapped hand away from yours, he brought his other hand to a close around it — your hand sandwiched between his. “I’m sorry — I really am,” he rose to his feet, pushing himself closer to you as he did so. “but if I have to fight every night for the rest of my life, just to end up alone with you — then that’s something that I would do in a heartbeat.”

“you don’t have to spill blood to be close to me, you know that right?”

he smirked, his eyes twinkling with something that you’ve come to know as mischief. “yeah, but it’s a win-win situation — I have my fun, and still end up here with you at the end of the day.”

“you’re a pain.”

“only for you.”