#platonic imagine
Text
Never Grow Up
Warnings: slight mentions of child abandonment, violence, cursing, gunshot wound, weapons, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader
*not my gif*
Summary: Your family might have grown over the years, but your bond always stayed the same
A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!
Inspired by: Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
Your little hands wrapped around my finger
Bruce looked down at you, only a couple weeks old, so tiny. So fragile. So innocent and unknowing to the horrors of the world.
You had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying, so of course he had gotten up with you, especially after Jason threatened to throw you out of the window if you woke him up again.
Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
Finally, after what felt like hours of crying and screaming, you seemed to calm down and you looked up at Bruce in an innocent wonder.
He reached down and began to adjust your shirt that had moved to an awkward angle with all of your squirming.
He paused when you reached up slowly and wrapped your hand around his index finger.
Ever since your mother had dropped you off here, claiming to Bruce that you were his daughter and she didn’t want to take care of you anymore, he had vowed he would do anything to protect you.
As he looked down at you with soft features, he couldn’t help but smile softly, “Hi, honey.” He whispered.
And it’s so quiet in the world tonight
It was weird.
All night you had been completely silent, no screaming, no crying.
While Alfred, Dick, and Bruce were all gratefully taking this opportunity to sleep without worrying about having to get up every five minutes, Jason on the other hand, didn’t like how quiet it was, it felt as if something was wrong.
As silently as he could, he snuck through the halls and into the nursery that Bruce had immediately had put in as soon as you showed up.
Don’t get him wrong, Jason didn’t like you at all. Nope. No way, no how. You were just an annoying baby that moved right into the manor not too long after him, which was only about a month ago.
He had still been in the process of adjusting to his new life, and then a baby was thrown into the mix, so if anything, he hated you.
As he opened the door and crept into your room, he didn’t really know what he was expecting. But he certainly wasn’t expecting you to be wide awake, just staring at the ceiling, not screaming and not crying like you always did whenever you were awake.
Even as you watched Jason approach you, you didn’t scream out and begin the waterworks that he was inevitably waiting for.
Pretty soon, Jason was standing right over you, staring down at you with just as much curiosity as you were to him.
Jason hesitated before slowly reaching down and gently picking you up.
All you did was stare up at him, and he continued to stare down at you.
Your little eyelids flutter cause your dreaming
Jason sat with four year old you on his lap, bouncing his knees up and down as you giggled every time you went up, almost flying in the air if it weren’t for his hands holding your sides, keeping you from going airborne.
Dick sat on the other side of Jason, secretly snapping a picture on his phone before turning his head back to the cartoon that the two had put on the tv for you. Though it seemed that they were enjoying it more than you were.
Bruce was out for the day with Alfred and they hesitantly trusted the boys to watch you, after a whole lot of begging on the younger ones' parts.
“Higher, Jay!” You called suddenly, still giggled.
The boy smiled slightly before bouncing you higher, causing Dick to look at the two of you nervously.
“You know, Jay, I think she’s going high enough.” He said, not taking his nervous gaze off of you, ready to leap forward at any moment if you were to fly out of his younger brother's arms.
He just shrugged, continuing to bounce you higher.
Fifteen minutes, and almost a heart attack, later, your giggled stopped and Jason’s leg slowed, and he looked down to see if you were okay, only to see you leaning against his chest with closed eyes and even breathing.
“Dickie,” Jason hissed, trying to get his older brother's attention.
He hummed in return, not looking away from the new cartoon.
“She’s asleep.”
That made Dick look over and he cooed over you in adoration.
“I think she’s dreaming.” Jason continued softly, watching you.
Dick nodded in return, snapping another photo.
So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light
“No, daddy!” You screamed, running away from an exhausted looking Bruce.
“It’s way past your bedtime, honey.” He practically begged, just wanting to go and get a nap in before he had to go on patrol.
You ran around the dining room table again, forcing Bruce to try and go after you.
Jason walked into the room calmly sipping a cup of coffee, “Wow, B. The five year old is faster than you.”
“Shut up.” The order man grunted in return, “Or help me get her to bed.”
His adopted son pretended to think about it, “Nah, I’m good.” Before turning on his heel and going back the way he came.
Bruce grumbled under his breath, promising himself that he would give Jason an earful later about respect.
He stopped running when an idea came to his mind, “Hey, n/n. If you get ready for bed then I’ll give you a surprise.”
You slowed your running in curiosity and looked at your father, “What kind of surprise?”
Bruce shrugged, “Guess you're going to have to see.”
The curiosity that you were feeling got the best of you and you quickly ran up the many stairs and got into your pj’s and hopped in bed.
A couple seconds after, Bruce walked in with something behind his back, which made you crane your neck to try and see what he was holding.
He bent down at one of your outlets without saying anything, plugging something in with his back covering what he was doing, then stood up and flicked off the lights.
You looked at him in confusion before he said, “Look up.”
So you did.
The sight above you made you gasp, it was the bat symbol on your ceiling, from the nightlight that Bruce had just placed in.
Batman had always been your favorite Gotham vigilante and you told your family about it all of the time, though your two brothers constantly tried to tell you that Nightwing and Robin were way better.
Bruce was able to slip out of the room unnoticed as you continued to stare up at your ceiling, not taking your eyes off of it until they started to droop.
And pretty soon, you were peacefully asleep.
To you, everything’s funny
You waddled down the stairs, scurrying into the dining room with a large grin on your face, following the delicious smell of Alfred’s pancakes.
When you got there, you were greeted with the sight of your father, Alfred, your brothers, and even your new brother, Tim, who just joined you guys at the manor about two months ago.
Six year old you had been ecstatic to gain a new brother, thinking that you could get away with more than you could with your other brothers.
“Good morning, n/n!” Dick called cheerfully, rushing over and scooping you up in his arms before plopping you down into the seat next to his and across from Tim.
“Morning, Timmy!” You exclaimed excitedly, still in the phase of becoming joyful whenever you would see the new face.
He hummed lazily in return, head in his hand as if he was putting his entire weight into it against the table. There were dark circles under his eyes that insinuated yet another restless night for him.
Sitting in front of him was a bowl of cereal, barely touched, with a spoon resting in it.
Just as you were about to turn to your own breakfast, Tim’s arm fell under the weight of his head and his eyes were closed, making him fall face first into his bowl.
Everyone looked up in surprise as the boy shot straight up in his seat, now fully awake.
Before anyone could even ask if he was okay, you let out a loud laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed.
You were laughing so hard that you had doubled over slightly against the table with your arms wrapped around your stomach, “Silly Timmy!” You exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in between giggles.
He grumbled under his breath, taking a napkin and harshly wiping milk off his face, “Glad someone finds it funny.”
You’ve got nothing to regret
Bruce stood before you with his hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised so high that they were lost in his hair.
“Care fo explain?” He asked sternly.
You shook your head back and forth quickly, trying to put your hand over your mouth as if it would hide your giggles, “No, daddy!” You cheered back, trying to keep up your innocent act.
“You’re six now, Y/n,” He reminded you, “You should start taking responsibility for your actions.”
“But I didn’t do it!” You protested, though your wide grin told a whole different story.
“I suppose the vase just fell over on its own then,” Your father said sarcastically.
You jumped on that story, nodding your head vigorously, “Yeah! It fell over on its own, daddy!”
He sighed, bending down and scooping you up into his arms, playfully poking your stomach, “You’re too stubborn for your own good…” He trailed off before snickering slightly, “I suppose you get that from me.”
I’d give all I have honey, if you could stay like that
“Jay Jay!” You cheered, immediately hopping into your elder brother's arms as soon as he exited the batmobile.
With a small chuckle, he caught you effortlessly before bringing you to a tight hug to his chest, “And how’s my favorite little sister doing this evening?” He asked jokingly.
You laughed loudly, shaking your head at his silly actions, “I’m your only sister!” You accused.
He pretended to think, “Hmm, is that so?”
Before you could try and reinforce that, Tim and Dick exited the vehicle as well, “Timmy! Dickie!” You cheered, causing Jason to scowl at the pair for pulling your attention away.
Dick squealed excitedly, rushing over and ripping you out of his grip and into his own, “N/n!”
Tim reached over and ruffled your hair slightly in affection.
“Daddy! Daddy!” If it was possible, your face lit up even more as your father appeared, shedding off his cowl and striding over to you.
“Hey there, honey.” He greeted with a small chuckle, gently removing you from his eldest sons grip and bringing you into his own, “Isn’t it a little past your bedtime?” He teased, playfully rubbing his nose against yours.
You giggled at the tickling feeling and pull back slightly, “Nuh uh, daddy! Grandpa said I can stay up to see you!”
“Is that so?” Bruce threw a playfully accusing glare to Alfred in the corner of the room, who held his hands up in surrender with a small smile, “Come on,” He huffed teasingly, “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Dickie!” You exclaimed, straining to look over your shoulder at the boy, “Airplane! Airplane!”
With a wide grin, the boy skipped over and carefully removed you from your fathers arms and laid you horizontally so that you could spread out your wingspan and pretend you were flying.
“We should call it the batplane,” Tim snickered.
“Batplane! Batplane!” You chanted in return.
Everyone’s eyes softened as they watched you laugh loudly.
Oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up
“Go fish!” You exclaimed sassily, giggling wildly at the feigned expressions of horror that your entire family wore all around the table.
Dick let out a fake groan, dropping his head into his hands, “How do you always win this game?”
You shrugged happily, humming slightly as you picked up the cards, “I’m awesome.” You giggled again.
“Who wants cookies?” Alfred entered the room with a soft smile, it widening slightly at the sound of all the children’s excited squeals.
Dick, Tim, and Jason all shot up out of their seats and began shoving and tackling each other to get to the tray of desserts first while Bruce just ran a hand down his face tiredly.
“Uh, uh, uh,” The older man calmly sidestepped the herd of boys, “Miss. Y/n gets the first one because she is not acting inappropriately.”
You giggled again at their groans of protest, happily reaching for a cookie and leaning up to plant a quick kiss on Alfred’s cheek, “Thank you!” You chirpped, plopping back down into your seat and munching on the treat.
Don't you ever grow up
“What is this thing?” Damian asked in disgust, looking down at your grinning form.
Bruce sighed, bending down and picking you up, you automatically wrapping your arms around his neck in return, “She is your little sister.” He introduced, “Y/n, this is your brother, Damian.”
“More brothers!” You cheered.
Damian scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “That thing is not my sister.” He declared stubbornly, turning a harsh glare your way.
“Don’t talk or look at her like that,” Your father scolded with a scowl, but your smile didn’t drop.
“It’s nice to meet you, Dami!” You giggled a little bit, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes.
“Damian.” He corrected through gritted teeth, “My name is Damian.”
“She’s your sister,” Bruce hissed at him, “You have to learn to deal with that.”
“Dami!” You giggled wildly, making Bruce tighten his grip on you so you didn’t slip out by mistake.
The boy glared at you in a way that promised danger until your father had to step away with you in fear of something actually happening.
“I know you don’t like it,” The man said softly, “But you’re gonna be staying with me at the manor now, and you’re going to have to get used to her.”
The young boy crossed his arms over his chest and began grumbling under his breath. Though, his glare did lessen a bit after those words.
Just stay this little
“What do you think you are doing?” It had been four weeks since Damian moved into the manor, and he had avoided you at all costs.
You whipped around with wide eyes, “Dami!” You squeaked in shock, looking up at your elder brother nervously, “I was just-“
“Have I not specifically informed you not to touch Titus?” He seethed, standing in his bedroom door menacingly.
You looked down guiltily and began shuffling your feet, dropping your hand that had been softly stroking the dog's soft fur from where he was perched on the bed, “I’m sorry,” You mumbled.
The boy scoffed with a roll of his eyes, “I do not want your pathetic apology.” He told you matter of factly.
“Titus is just such a sweet puppy,” You sadly looked up at the dog that had perked up in wonderment as to why you stopped giving him attention.
That made Damian pause, “Oh… yes. He is a good dog.” He replied hesitantly.
“Sorry for bothering you,” You mumbled again, trying to make your way past him.
“Wait,” He surprised both you and himself with his word, but you froze nonetheless, “I suppose it would not hurt for you to pet him for a few more moments.”
A wide grin broke out and your face and you automatically dashed back to the creature and began rubbing behind his ears excitedly.
“I love animals,” You began rambling happily, “They’re so adorable and sweet. I would like to have more pets, I need to tell daddy that we don’t have enough. Maybe I’ll get Jay Jay a snake, I think he’ll like one-“
For the first time, Damian looked at you in a different light. Instead of just seeing some eight year old nuisance, he finally saw a kid only a couple years younger than him that might possibly share some common interests. Maybe having you as a sister wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up
“Where are you?” Jason called in a sing-song voice, fighting off a smile as he pretended not to be able to hear your poorly muffled giggles.
He stalked down the long aisles of the bookcases in the library, where he had heard your little feet scamper off into during the beginning of the hide-and-go seek game.
Even though you were now ten years old, you weren’t any better at the game than you were at four years old, but Jason never had the heart to tell you that.
“Are you... over here?” He dramatically rounded one of the corners, raising his voice as he spoke even though he knew full well that you wouldn’t be there.
The sound of your laughter only increased at his failure and the smile grew on his lips as he strode closer and closer to your ‘hiding spot’.
“Now,” He mockingly thought out loud, “I wonder where she could be…”
Right on cue, he threw open a small closet that was tucked in between two bookcases, emitting a shrill shriek from your lips at the sudden brightness and your brother's face grinning down at you.
“Found ya,” He teased.
You laughed, “I wanna do it again, Jay!” You eagerly jumped up and skirted past him, “Count again!”
He chuckled, but placed his hands over his eyes and followed your instructions.
Don't you ever grow up
“And how was your day today, Miss. Y/n?” Alfred asked with a small smile, glancing over his shoulder to where you sat propped up on the counter, kicking your legs back and forth.
“It was good, I saw a puppy today!” You exclaimed excitedly, seemingly having waited for that very question so that you could share the good news.
“Did this puppy happen to live in this manor?” The man hummed in curiosity.
You shook your head back and forth, getting even more excited, “Nope! My teacher brought it into school today and his name is…”
Alfred just listened and nodded along with your joyful rambling, loving the way you got so excited about small things, even as you got older.
It could stay this simple
Many years ago, a tradition had started between you and your siblings that every Friday night before they went on patrol you would all have a movie night in your at-home theater.
Bruce had joined you that night and you were all lounged around on various different couches and chairs comfortably, watching whatever movie Damian had insisted upon watching.
Your father leaned back in his seat with a contempt sigh, grateful for some time to relax after a long day and what would surely turn into a long night.
The credits began rolling, and instead of hearing you and your siblings begin to chat loudly amongst yourselves, it stayed dead silent.
He quickly snapped his head over in alarm, only for his eyes to soften.
You were leaning your head against Dicks shoulder with his head on top of yours, sleeping soundly on a nearby couch. Tim, Damian, and Jason were also asleep on their nearby pieces of furniture.
A small smile tugged at the ends of the man’s lips and he stood up silently, he would let them all rest. He could survive one night without them.
I won't let nobody hurt you
“I’m gonna kill you!” Your classmate roared, reeling his fist back and getting ready to release it in your face.
Unwavering, you stood your ground with your arms in front of yourself protectively as you stared him down, completely unafraid.
He was a stereotypical mean boy jock that just so happened to make the wrong comment in front of you. And when you called him out on it, he had been less than happy. Everything quickly escalated from there into a full out fist fight outside after school.
Easily, you ducked and side stepped his pathetic attempt at a punch, sending him stumbling forward because he made the rookie mistake of putting all his weight behind it.
Reaching over, you socked him in the face in one swift motion, sending him flying back down.
“You bitch!” He cried, emitting some laughs from the onlooking crowd due to his embarrassed state.
Quickly, he got up and went to lunge at you.
“What is happening?” Damian’s voice made everyone freeze, your older brother having been able to intimidate everyone in the school.
The boy froze at the sound of the older boy and slowly turned towards him with wide eyes, paling even further at the sight of his glare.
“Sh-she-“ He tried to stutter out.
Damian paid him no mind, calmly turning to face you, “What happened?”
“He tried to hit me after I called him out for being an asshole,” You spit out.
Menacingly, your brother turned to said boy and the onlooking crowd held their breath in preparation for what was to come.
A fury seemed to set in the already embarrassed boys gut, because he let out a scream of rage and went to lunge at both of you this time.
“What the hell is going on here?” Yet another booming voice stopped all further action as none other than Jason Todd came stomping angrily through the crowd towards you and Damian.
If everyone was scared of Damian, then they were down right petrified of Jason.
Everyone in the school had heard the horror stories of when your brother ran amok in the halls and reeking havoc during his high school years.
Quickly, everyone scrambled away from the scene, except for the boy, whose collar Damian was holding onto.
“He tried to fight our sister.” The boy informed your older brother calmly.
“Is that so?” Jason turned to him with his eyebrows raised mockingly before he smiled in a similar manner, “We can’t have that, now can we?”
Won't let no one break your heart
“Where are you going?” It was an innocent question, simple even, but it still made you freeze in your steps nonetheless.
Slowly, you turned on your heel to face your brothers, who all now looked up from whatever they were doing in the living room to stare at you in curiosity.
“You look nice!” Dick chirped.
“Thanks,” You tried your best to keep your voice from wavering, failing.
Jason however, wasn’t as easily distracted as your eldest brother, “Where are you going looking so nice?”
From beside him, Tim raised an eyebrow, piecing it together pretty quickly. Unlike the rest of your brothers, who for the most part were slowly but surely getting it.
It was silent for a moment before Dicks eyes widened in horror and he shot to his feet, “You’re going on a date?” He shrieked in horror.
You blew out a huff of air, “It’s no big deal.”
“I beg to differ!” He had begun dramatically doubling over and hyperventilating.
Jason narrowed his eyes, “Who are you going on a date with?”
“A date?” Damian looked back and forth between everyone in confusion, “You all told me that she was only fourteen and therefore not allowed to go on one until she was much older.”
You threw your head back with a groan, “That’s not true! I am more than old enough!”
“We just don’t want you getting hurt,” Tim tried to reason calmly.
“You’re too young to date!” Dick sobbed, stumbling over and throwing his arms around you in a tight bear hug.
Jason stood, crossing the room and looking down at you sternly, “I agree with Dickie-Bird, I don’t think you should go on this date.”
“What do you even know about them?” Tim offered, “Probably not enough to risk going on a date.”
“I do too know enough about them,” You grumbled, prying Dicks arms off of you.
“Tell me their address right this minute and I will judge if they are worthy enough!” Your youngest older brother declared.
Everyone ignored him.
Jason sighed through his nose, “We just want what’s best for you,”
You softened at that, relaxing in Dicks death grip that was intended to keep you from leaving the manor, “I get that,” You reassured them, “But you also have to realize that I’m growing up. And with that comes different things. Like dates.”
All four of them hesitated, “I still don’t like this,” Tim said after a moment, “But youre right.”
“I want you to text me every five minutes so I know that you’re alright.” Jason said, immediately followed by sounds of agreement from the other three.
“No,” You groaned.
“Fine… every ten minutes.” Tim reasoned.
You stood there for a moment, contemplating his words before ultimately deciding that the only way you would be getting out of there anytime soon was to agree to their terms.
“Fine,” You sighed, “Dick. You have to let go of me.”
He just stood there for a moment, sniffling slightly, before hesitantly pulling away with a look for complete sadness overtaking his features.
“Guys, I’ll be fine,” You reassured them with a small smile before slowly backing away and walking out the door.
“She’s growing up,” Tim stated after a moment with a frown pulling at the ends of his lips.
And no one will desert you
“Hands in the air!” A voice boomed through the building, causing all festivities to halt in their places automatically, “We’re robbing this damn joint!”
Immediately, everyone in the room went to the ground with their hands raised, Jason dragging you down alongside him with a soft curse, “I told Bruce this charity gala wasn’t a good idea.” He muttered.
You locked eyes with your father and Damian, the only other two there, from across the room and he silently begged you with his eyes to do as the people said and stay down.
Multiple figures with masks and guns moved up and down the room, shoving anything expensive- looking enough into some sacks that they carried.
Your entire body tensed when one of the people froze in front of you, slowly looking down at you and your brother.
With wide eyes full of fear, you allowed your hand to latch onto your brother's wrist as he shifted his body to be between you and the man.
“Hey, get a load of this!” He called in a mocking way, “These are those Wayne kids!” Clearly he hadn’t noticed your father and other brother on the other side of the room.
A couple of his friends glanced over at him with nods, not stopping what they were doing.
“You reckon they’re worth anything if we take ‘em?” Another one called out, and you had to physically restrain yourself from letting out a whimper, all other gala guests smartly choosing to stay silent.
The first one shrugged and moved as if to grab you, causing Jason to immediately shoot to his feet with a glare that could put everyone in the room six feet under, “Don’t you dare touch her,” He warned dangerously despite the gun pointed to his chest.
Right on cue, the doors slammed open and in rushed none other than Dick and Tim, suited up as Nightwing and Red Robin, quickly taking over the situation and knocking out all the robbers.
Jason turned to you as guests began to scramble out, “Are you alright?” He asked quietly.
All you could do was nod, throwing your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. You had never been in as much danger as you had just been in that day. And it terrified you.
“You’re alright,” He whispered softly, rubbing your back comfortingly, “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”
Just try to never grow up
“Shut up!” Jason snapped, elbowing Tim harder than necessary, making the boy stumble a bit from where he stood.
The younger of the two whipped around and glared at his brother, “Elbow me one more time.” He challenged through gritted teeth.
“You wanna go-“
“Alright, alright,” You got between the two with a huff, giving them each a small push apart, “Break it up, we have bigger things to worry about then you two breaking each other's faces.”
“Yes.” Damian agreed with narrowed eyes, “Wait until after we have surprised Pennyworth, like civil beings.”
Dick just kept on humming happily and mixing the ingredients for cookies in a large bowl that rested on the counter, “I can't wait to see the look on his face! Oh, this was such a good idea to surprise him for his birthday!” He gushed.
“Well, n/n is pretty good at coming up with plans,” Jason momentarily let his fight go and walked back to the bowl and carefully watched it.
“Here,” Tim walked over and picked up the bowl, “Let's bring this over here so we can-“
He cut himself off when his foot caught on the edge of the counter and he was sent stumbling forward, making the bowl tip over and land right on none other than Jason.
Silence rang through the kitchen as everyone froze in pace, mortified at what they had just witnessed.
Jason slowly turned his head up, “Why, you little-“
“Hey! Hey!” Dick scrambled forward and grabbed the arm Jason had begun winding up to punch Tim, “Let’s not get into this again. We can remake the dough-“
Using his other hand, Jason took a large handful of dough off of his shirt and flung it straight into Tim’s face, your eyes widening even more at the sight.
Next thing you knew, dough began flying every which way, hitting everyone in its path. Less than a minute passed before you were all covered head to toe with chocolate chips and unbaked cookie dough.
“What is-“
You all froze at the sound of Alfred’s voice, pausing a moment before all whipping in his direction. The older man was looking back and forth between all of you with slightly parted lips.
“Surprise?” You squeaked out.
Never grow up
You yawned, “This is more boring then the time we had to sit through dads speech about the importance of sleep.”
“Agreed,” Damian grumbled from beside you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning down further into his seat, “I suppose father has a knack for talking for obnoxious amounts of time and not once making it of any interest to us.”
The two of you continued to stare at Bruce up on stage, giving a speech about one thing or another and trying not to fall asleep.
“If he tired dragging us to one more of these things,” You mumbled, eyes dropping slightly, “I say we pull a Jason and steal the tires off of his car.”
“Agreed.” Your brother grunted.
You're in the car on the way to the movies
“Movies! Movies! Movies! Movies!” You and your siblings all chanted in sync.
Bruce let out a tired groan, running a hand down his face as he pretended not to notice the way Alfred was chuckling slightly from the driver's seat.
“If you all keep being this loud, you’re going to get us kicked out of the theater again.” He reminded you tiredly.
Jason scoffed, “Don’t act like you can’t just buy the theater so that they can’t kick us out!”
“I can't keep doing that everytime one of you messes up.” Bruce stressed.
It was silent for a moment, then the chanting started again, twice as loud this time.
“Movies! Movies! Movies! Movies!”
And you're mortified your mom's droppin' you off
“Dad,” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands, “I told you not to drop me off!”
Bruce looked over at you sternly, “Is this still about us being billionaires?” He questioned.
“I just don’t want people treating me any differently if they know!” You insisted.
Somehow, you had been able to keep it away from your new, out of school friends that you were the daughter of the Bruce Wayne. And you planned on keeping it that way.
“There’s no reason to be ashamed of who you are.”
“It’s not that I’m ashamed, dad,” You told him, “I just don’t want them being nice to me just because we have a lot of money.”
That made him pause, and after a moment, he pulled over to the side of the road.
You show him an appreciative look and quickly leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before hopping out of the car, “Thanks, dad! I love you!”
He smiled softly, “I love you too, sweetie. Have fun.”
At fourteen, there's just so much you can't do
You threw your head back with a groan, causing Tim to glance over at you sympathetically, “This is so stupid!” You complied with a grumble.
“I know,” He agreed.
“Why do I even have to do this?” You crossed your arms tightly over your chest and sunk farther down into the chair you sat in at a desk in the batcave.
“Cause it’s homework and getting an education is good for you,” The boy hummed.
“Easy for you to say,” You scoffed, “You’re naturally smart. You don’t have to worry about this.”
He sighed, moving his chair over next to yours, “Alright, what do you need help with?”
You perked up immediately, face lighting up like a Christmas tree, “Yes, yes, yes! You’re the best brother ever!” You gushed.
“I said I would help you, not do it for you.” He warned and you waved a dismissive hand.
“Yeah, yeah, same difference.”
And you can't wait to move out someday and call your own shots
You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest, “Don’t act as if they didn’t start when they were way younger than me!”
Bruce rubbed his hands down his face in frustration, “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to be like them.”
“I don’t!” You protested angrily, “I want to be like them! I want to help people!”
He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, “This is not up for discussion, Y/n.” He told you firmly, “It’s too dangerous.”
Your mouth dropped open and you gaped at him, “Too- too dangerous?” You seethed, “So it’s alright for my brothers to go out every night fighting crime as this city vigilantes with you, but not if I do it?”
“Yes!” He finally snapped, “Yes, alright? I don’t want you getting hurt! I will not let you go out there and risk your life every night. The- the boys have their reasons for doing it, but you don’t have any reason. I need you to stay here. Safe.”
You recoiled slightly at his words, “You think I can't handle it?” You whispered.
His head shook back and forth again, “That's not what I said, and you know it. You can handle yourself, I just don’t want you to need to.”
“I want to help people!” You insisted desperately.
“Help them in a different way.” His tone was final, leaving no more room for discussion, “Because I will not let you fall into this life. I couldn’t stop them from joining, but I sure as hell will stop you.”
You stared at him for a moment in an eerie silence before turning on your heel and storming out of the room, slamming the door shut harshly behind you.
Bruce flinched slightly at the noise and dropped his head into his hands.
But don't make her drop you off around the block
“I just don’t want them seeing the car.” You tried to reason, using your fathers excessive amount of money as an excuse.
“You sure about that?” Jason turned his head from the passenger seat with a smirk, “Sure you’re not just embarrassed of me and Dickie-Bird?”
You groaned, sinking further into the backseat and burying your head in your hands, “Please just drop me off around the corner.”
Your brother feigned worry, “But how will we know that you got to the movies safe, then?”
Dick snickered slightly, but pulled over where you asked nonetheless, “Come on, Little Bird. I know you used to hate this just as much as she does.”
“But we love you!” Jason teasingly called as you hurriedly exited the vehicle and slammed the door with more force than necessary, fear of someone hearing him taking over.
Their laughter did follow you all the way through the doors of the cinema, though.
Remember that she's gettin' older too
“What is it- what happened?” A look of complete horror and desperation painted your features.
You had just been getting ready to turn in for the night when you had heard a lot of commotion coming from the batcave, which was rare considering your family wasn’t normally back from patrol for at least another four hours. And even then, they always stayed as quiet as they could as to not wake you.
Alfred sighed immediately moving to gently grasp onto your arms, “Master. Bruce was shot, but-“
“Dad was shot?” You looked like you were about to throw up, but you tried to stumble past Alfred to go farther into the cave, nonetheless, shaking off his grip.
He gently reached out and grabbed you by the shoulders, trying to halt all further movements from you, “But he’ll be fine,” He continued his previous sentence reassuringly, “And I don’t think it’s wise for you to have to see him like that. He wouldn’t want you to see him like that.”
“B-but-dad-he-“ You began to become overwhelmed as you frantically stuttered things out, trying and failing to form a coherent thought.
“He’s right, n/n,” You hadn’t even noticed Dick approach the two of you until he was right in front of you and speaking.
Your head snapped over to your oldest brother, taking in his soft expression as he gently tried to urge you to calm down.
Vigorously, you shook your head back and forth and pushed away from both of them, heading straight for the room you knew they all went to whenever one of them was injured.
You pushed the door open, ignoring the way Tim shot out of his seat beside Bruce’s bed as you did so, your breathing becoming a shaky and uneven pace.
Bruce slowly moved his head to look at you, and when he did, his eyes turned sad in a way you grew to despise, “N/n-“
“Are you okay?” You asked in a panic-filled tone, rushing over to his side.
A blanket lay over his body so you couldn’t see where he was shot, “Yes, I’m fine.” He had the audacity to chuckle.
“This isn’t funny.” You snapped, “How is this at all funny?”
He quieted for a moment, neither of you paying any kind of attention as Tim slipped out of the room after giving you a small squeeze on the shoulder.
“You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry.”
For the first time in your life, your father looked small to you, weak. He was always strong and determined, sure. But never had you seen him look like he did now. And it scared you.
“Dad-“ You hadn’t even realized when tears had began to roll down your cheeks, but they did and you tried to bite your bottom lip to stop sobs from slipping through.
“Come here,” He prompted softly, and you didn’t hesitate.
You rushed over to his side and fell into the chair Tim had previously been sitting in, your hand shooting out and holding onto his tightly.
“I-I don’t want to see you hurt,” You admitted tearfully.
“I know, I know.” He reached his other hand over and softly moved a piece of fallen hair out of your face, “I hate having you see me like this.” He paused, “But I would hate seeing you like this even more.”
Your eyes shot up, “Dad-“
“You know how you feel about me being like this?” He continued, “I would feel ten times worse if it was you out there instead of me, that’s the reason I don’t want you out there. Because I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something were to happen to you.”
Silence fell over the two of you like an uncomfortable blanket for a minute before you slowly nodded your head, “Okay,” You whispered, “Okay, I’ll stop trying to go out with you guys. But only if you promise that all of you will be safe. That’s the only reason I ever wanted to go in the first place, to make sure you guys were all alright.”
He squeezed your hand in appreciation, “I promise you, n/n, we’ll all be safe.”
And don't lose the way that you dance around in your PJs getting ready for school
You sang loudly to the song playing over the speaker as you spun back and forth along the kitchen floor, packing your lunch for the day.
Perhaps the music was too loud, or you were too much in your own world, because you didn’t even notice the way your brothers all crowded in the doorway, laughing quietly at your antics.
Naturally, Dick had his phone out and was recording the moment that no doubt would be used as blackmail later, but none of them could shake the soft smiles they felt unconsciously growing on their faces at the sight of it.
You looked so young and carefree, like you were five again.
Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up
“They’re really beautiful,” You admitted with a dreamy sigh, leaning further back into your seat to look up at the sky filled with thousands of stars in complete wonder.
Your father hummed in agreement from beside you, “They are.”
About a week ago, you had been complaining to him that you were hardly ever able to see any stars at night due to the bright city lights, so he decided to surprise you by taking a night off of patrol and bringing you up, over the clouds in the batplane to see them. Just the two of you.
“I can’t believe that I’m seeing them this close,” Your wide, full of wonder, eyes were yet to tear away from the devastatingly beautiful scene.
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, each observing the various constellations at your own pace.
“Dad?” The man’s head lulled to the side to find you already looking at him, “Thank you.”
He smiled softly, leaning over and gently kissing your temple, “No need to thank me. I’m glad we did this.”
Don't you ever grow up
They were the loudest in the audience by far. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be even slightly embarrassed. If anything, your grin only widened at their proud features.
Their claps and cheers of your name were enough to make your legs move across the stage as you graciously accepted your diploma before waving it in the air excitedly at them.
All in the front row, your father, honorary grandfather, and brothers all jumped up to keep their clapping, even Damian didn’t pretend not to care.
Tears shone in each and every one of their eyes as they watched you were about to take your final steps off the stage, officially having graduated high school.
Of course, there was an immense amount of pride and joy in their hearts, but there was also a sinking feeling inside that made the tears keep rolling.
The second you stepped off of that stage, you would no longer be a child. You would be off to college. You would have grown up.
Deep down, they all knew they had been dreading this very moment for as long as they could remember, but they never really anticipated what would happen when the day actually came.
But instead of voicing these thoughts and ruining your day, they continued to let their applause boom through the auditorium.
The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe @xbergiex @kiyomi-uchiha777
#book places 1 year event#platonic#platonic imagine#x reader#x teen reader#x daughter reader#x child reader#x sister reader#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x reader platonic#bruce wayne x daughter reader#dick grayson x reader platonic#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x sister reader#jason todd x sister reader#jason todd x reader platonic#jason todd x reader#damian wayne x reader platonic#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x sister reader#batboys x reader#batfamily#batfamily x batsis#batsis x batfam#batsis!reader#alfred pennyworth x reader platonic#alfred pennyworth x reader
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Being a variant and being on Miles’ side [GN]
[Platonic Headcanons]
c/w: major spoilers, gender neutral terms and pronouns (they/them), no gendered terms used to describe reader, canon inaccuracies? I’m not really sure I’d just gone off what I had perceived from the movie
—
[Unedited]
• Miguel and Jessica had been keeping a keen eye on the teenager spider variant (you) from Earth-2315126 since you’d been bitten at five years old
• Strange thing was your father; Peter Parker was also bit, which meant your dimension had two spider variants as opposed to one— not unheard of but not common either
• It was fortunate for you however because you had someone to teach you, show you the ropes, the fact that it was your father who had become your mentor was only the icing on the cake
• And you were brought up into a spectacular spider variant in his care; strong, compassionate, kind
• Though despite having a father the pair kept a watchful eye on you regardless, seeing promise in your future and believing in your potential
• When you were fourteen your father was killed by Lizard, and for an entire year following you gave up on your heroic persona— hanging up your suit in the wake of your father’s death that rocked your entire world
• Being Spider-Man/Woman is about sacrifice, your father taught that to you when you began and you should’ve expected that you could not have it all
• A loving and doting father and the most badass secondary identity ever, it was always bound to happen and you should’ve prepared yourself for it
• But nobody could prepare themself for the loss of a loved one, and the ache in your chest and the burn in your stomach was something you’d never felt before— nor do you ever wish to feel it again
• So you gave up on the suit and you gave up on being the hero, eventually your Aunt May had stepped in and she scolded you pretty heavily about your state
• You didn’t think she had room to talk and she laid into you pretty hard for that comment because she most certainly did, Peter was her brother after all
• After you got it pretty good you decided that she was right, sulking about and ruining yourself wouldn’t change a damn thing, not only that but you knew your father would hate to see you like that
• You knew he wouldn’t ever force the suit upon you and you accepted that you had the choice to avoid dawning it ever again, but you also knew what he would do in your position
• He would bear the responsibility of his beloved city no matter the circumstances and no matter the heartache, because Spider-Man always gets back up
• So you stood firm upon all the valiant determination you could muster and picked your life back up again
• You got better emotionally and grew stable once more, and in the acceptance of your father’s death you had grown stronger, confident, courageous
• With you back on the streets of NYC the people of Brooklyn often voiced just how much they had missed and needed you
• And you didn’t plan on letting them down again, so despite the lack of a piece of your heart you always showed up when people needed you and you’ve not yet let them down
• Now, back to Jess and Miguel— they had known Peter would die and they had known they could not interfere as this was your canon event, the moment that would make or break you.. turns out it did both
• And they watched as you suffered through the loss, gave up on everything and everyone (including yourself) for a little over a year, worked through your pain and powered forward to overcome your grief, then became one of the strongest variants they had ever seen just before your seventeenth birthday
• Yes, they’ve been watching you for twelve years and yes, you have no idea
• It was on your seventeenth birthday that you had encountered Lizard once again, and this time he had taken enhancement drugs to increase his growth rate to tremendously rapid levels
• To say you were a bit stunned to see Lizard the size of a fucking dinosaur would be the understatement of the entire damn year
• Now, you held malicious and vengeful feelings towards Lizard for a long time in the wake of your father’s murder but it was feelings you had never ever acted upon, not even after you decided to pick up the suit once more
• As mentioned before you knew very well that the angry and hateful feeling brewing inside you at the expense of Lizard killing him could ruin you if you let it
• And that’s not where your morals lie, your beliefs and virtues are straight from those of your fathers— to be strong and courageous, righteous and pure for being Spider-Man/Woman is about hope
• So you did intend to take him down but you’d never do it with sinister intent or threatening tactics— just bring him down is all you wanted to do
• And if you were to speak honestly, it wasn’t as hard as you thought it was gonna be, obviously it was still pretty tough because hello? He’s the size of a fucking house, might as well be fighting a damn dragon
• It was easier because you’d felt at peace with yourself, and when at peace with yourself you worked harder and cleaner, jobs and protecting the city was just.. easier
• The fact the fight was easier than you expected could’ve also been because of your bite, the abilities you had gotten from it were a bit different than your father’s
• See, you’d been bit by a radioactive spider yes but it was a specific species and in accordance with that species you’d gained significantly different skills and traits
• The spider that had bit you was a Northern Wolf Spider, the arachnid gaining that name from it’s behavior of chasing, hunting and stalking prey, and in an odd turn of events you’d gained qualities that were more akin to that of a North American Timber Wolf
• Heightened senses came with the bite for every variant, and your specific qualities included; advanced stamina and strength, increased sense of sight, tremendously keen sense of smell and auditory processing, you had thick and durable fangs meant for tearing and searing
• You also bulked up a whole more more since your father passed, and in gaining more weight in pure muscle you’ve had to make your webs more durable, which helped out a lot with your fight against Lizard
• Speaking of—
“They’ve probably got it handled Miguel, is there any reason to actually go to their dimension?”
“I protect the multiverse which makes anomalies my responsibility, regardless of if that variant can handle them or not. And I’m going to have them join us.”
Jessica didn’t say much after, and she followed Miguel dutifully as he walked into the glowing orange portal. The pair flew through the multiverse for all of two seconds before a portal opened ahead of them and they were dropped onto a roof in your dimension.
“Went a bit too heavy on the ‘roids didn’t ya Doc?” The voice of a young teenager caught their ears. Just off to the side and a couple blocks away. Now facing that way they could see the large head of Lizard standing tall over the lip of the building on the distance.
“Is.. is that?—”
“Dr. Curt Connors.”
You leapt off the metal grail of the fire escape just as Lizard destroyed it with a whip of his massive tail. Using the momentum from your jump you swung a reverse axe kick to Lizard’s chin— putting enough force into it to throw his head back as you flip-jumped from him and landed on the road down below.
“I’m going to rip you apart and feast on your innards!” Lizard snarled as he recovered and glowered down at you with a sinister bear of his teeth.
“Season them well first at least, I’d suggest a nice barbecue rub!” You responded before shooting a web to the corner of the building on your left and swinging yourself into the air. Lizard roared angrily before lunging forward and attempting to catch you between his teeth. They snapped close with a chilling clamp and throaty growl from the beast.
Reaching the corner of the building you had shot your web at you leapt up and backwards flying over Lizard’s head and connecting a web to the side of his muzzle.
“Almost got me there!” You yelled as you swung around and around Lizard’s large scaled snout. “Don’t you know that animals that bite are often fitted with muzzles!” You quipped, enunciating the last word with a firm tug thus tightening the webs you’d been wrapping around his jaws and effectively sealing his mouth shut.
You kept the momentum and attached another web to the end of the one you’d been swinging around his muzzle. Then, you angled your hip to swing towards Lizard’s legs and using the same tactic looped around them several times before you were doing the same thing for his arms. When you deemed him wrapped up enough you landed behind him then tugged hard on the web end in your hand and forced Lizard to the ground by pulling his feet out from underneath him.
Once you were sure he was on the asphalt you were swift to web him up tightly and bind him to the ground. Hopefully, Captain Stacey got your message about the antidote and would arrive soon with it.
Meanwhile, as you waited you playfully walked along the edge of the building. The lip acting as your balance beam as you walked on your toes along it, doing a flip every so often just cause. You’d long since forgone your mask in favor of eating the sandwich gifted to you by the bodega owner on the corner.
Your spider senses tingled before—
“That was pretty impressive.”
You only flinched slightly at the abrupt interruption of your own little world, and turned to see two people. One, a very tall and broad man with wide shoulders and a muscular physique. The other, a woman with dark skin and a styled afro.. and she was pregnant.
“Uhm… thanks?”
“Was that a question?”
“Sorry it’s just—” you shook your head before jumping down and only now standing on the same level as him did you realize how tall the man actually was. “Who exactly are you two?”
“I’d think the suits gave you plenty context.” The woman replied, a smirk tugging up one end of her lips.
“Okay.. and why are you here?” You answered, still on edge about the two variants standing in front of you.
“My name is Miguel O’hara, and I lead an elite strike force dedicated to helping maintain the multiverse.” The man responded and you quirked an eyebrow at him.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here?”
“There was an anomaly reading in your dimension and we’re here to retrieve whatever villain has jumped into your universe.” The woman explained, jumping in to answer before Miguel could.
“You mean Kingpin?” You replied pointing to the billboard behind them and they both spun around to find the suit wearing antagonist webbed to it. Thick, white webs covering his entire body save for his neck and head, finally a web over his mouth. And they all watched as he glitched and morphed in colorful and mixed patterns, the board he was attached to glitching out too before changing entirely.
“How did you?—”
“My AP Physics teacher won’t shut up about the multiverse and also he doesn’t look my Kingpin at all so.. I mean you know,” they shrugged.
Miguel turned his head slightly to look at the woman beside him before he jerked his head minutely then he was facing the teenager in front of him once more. You met his masked stare head on (something he was impressed by, not many people can meet his intimidating glare straight on) as the woman walked away from you two before slinging a web up to the billboard and pulling herself up to it.
“You know the whole sinister and dark ‘nobody touch me I’m emo’ vibe you got going on isn’t very heroic.”
Miguel didn’t say anything, didn’t move an inch as he just stared at you. “See that right there isn’t becoming of someone who’s supposed to make people feel safe.”
“I protect the multiverse.”
“Right. But there are ordinary people in the multiverse, in every dimension you’ll find people.”
“The multiverse is my priority.”
“Yikes, saying things like that are not very becoming of a Spider-Man either.”
Miguel turned his observant stare cold as he chose to glare at you instead for the disrespectful responses and jokes. And he figured you must’ve felt he’d changed to glaring heatedly because you awkwardly looked away with a hand rubbing the back of your neck.
Finally, the woman returned with the Kingpin variant at her feet. This one significantly smaller than yours and lankier too, he must rely heavily on his Tombstone and Prowler. You’d rather have this Kingpin as opposed to your Kingpin— who for some reason is built like a fucking overgrown Silverback Gorilla.
She fiddled with the watch on her wrist before a golden portal erupted into life beside her, and you watched as she threw the Kingpin variant in before stepping in herself. But not before saluting you a goodbye with a playful glint in her eye and cheeky smirk on her face.
The portal closed and then your attention was back on Miguel, and your spider senses tingling brought a hand up to catch the watch he threw at you.
“Join us?”
You looked from him to the device in your hand, then you looked behind you at the Lizard on the ground down below. Captain Stacey at his neck and injecting him with a vial of clear liquid. You turned back to Miguel with a smirk and eager look as you slid the watch onto your wrist. “Sounds like a damn good time.”
• You didn’t know if you actually wanted to be there at Miguel’s Spider Society or whatever he’s calling it but you were also a bit intrigued by it
• So you followed them when he offered you that watch, and you grinned as he gave walked you around the building, giving you a small tour of his headquarters
• When you met Peter B. Parker you had an emotional breakdown and refused to return to the society for days following your first interaction with the man
• When you finally went back he was concerned that he’d done something wrong to garner such a reaction but you were quick to jump in and let him know it was in no way his fault before you explained why you had reacted as you did
• He was more than understanding, offering to keep his distance if that was what you wanted and whilst you appreciated the gesture you told him you would be fine
• And spending time in his company had begun to fill that gaping hole in your heart, obviously he’d never replace your father and you didn’t expect that of him either but his fatherly presence made you feel better than you had in years since your father’s passing
• Mayday was just an added bonus to his presence
• Time passed and you were there for a couple months before you met Gwen Stacey, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, it was a bit odd for you since the Gwen from your universe was about three years old and hadn’t been bitten but you got used to it
• And in that time you’d also learned the pregnant woman’s name was Jessica and that she was Miguel’s right hand in his society that he created
• You’d also met Hobie Brown and Pavitr Prabhakar whom you’d come to adore more than you’d ever outwardly admit lest you wish to give them egos the size of fucking Mars (but those two alongside Gwen were definitely your favorites) (behind Miguel ofc)
• Speaking of, you’d also grown quite close to Miguel in your time as part of his society of spider people, which was a huge surprise to yourself, him, Jessica and pretty much everyone involved
• He couldn’t really explain what it was, just something about your energy and the way you carried yourself that had him intrigued and impressed
• Your attitude that alluded to you never giving up was something he admired about you too, and it was those qualities that drew him in, made him want to protect you
• The bonding with you was something he didn’t expect to happen but was shocked when he wasn’t against it, and he ignored the initial reluctance and fear that he felt when you two began to get closer and closer
• Maybe it was the little things, the way you’d check up on him after a particularly harrowing or difficult mission, or the way you’d do anything to see if you could get him to crack a smile, there was something about your mere presence too, something warm and comforting
• Something he hadn’t felt since his young daughter was still a part of his life, and he was afraid of the consequences that would follow if he ever got close to you and lost you
• The same heartache he felt for his daughter would return, and it was pain that he didn’t want to feel ever again, that’s why he kept himself so guarded, those broken and vulnerable pieces protected behind vaulted steel doors
• But you had somehow managed to slip through his barbed defenses and made yourself right at home in his heart, and again he was initially afraid of the possibility that he’d lose you too and he’d face that pain all over again
• He doesn’t remember when or how he got over it, but he does remember the feeling that washed over him when he finally accepted your friendship
• It felt akin to a bucket of cold water being dumped over that fiery and searing ache in his chest, relief and comfort that he felt weigh so heavily on his chest he almost cried
• After that your guys’ relationship developed to much deepen levels, and he’d never admit to your face but you had quickly become his favorite and he would do anything to protect you, protect your bond like his life depended on it
• And just like Peter, his mere presence seemed to make you finally feel whole again… complete
• And as time continued to pass you’d only grow closer with the two men, finding safety and comfort in their arms, safety and comfort you’d been craving since you were fourteen years old
• Then, Miles Morales came along and everything went to shit
• Despite being on his team for months Miguel failed to mention that there was a spider variant that was an anomaly
• And in failing to mention that you had to figure it out on your own when Miles’ scent hit your nose and he smelled drastically different from the other spider people
• He smelt odd, unnatural and unusual… strange
• It didn’t take you long to figure out that he was an anomaly but you still figured it out by the way his scent, and you thanked the stars for that particular gift you got from the species of spider that had bitten you
• After Miles, Hobie and Gwen returned from the rescue they accomplished in Pavitr’s dimension at the expense of Spot is when things went from bad to ultimately worse
• Miguel had hoped somewhere small in his chest that you would side with him but he knew in a significantly larger part of him that your morals would not allow you to stand for him preventing Miles from saving his father
• Miguel knew that if you had known your father would’ve been killed that horrible night those years ago that you would’ve interfered without hesitation
• So he was not confident that you’d agree with him and well over half of the rest of the spider variants that this is something that must occur
• And he feared the confrontation with you, he feared the hate he’d no doubt see in your eyes when you find out this is where he stood on his opinion about the situation
• He wasn’t wrong either, because when Miles had returned and they all had cornered him after Miles discovered that Spot would be the cause, you didn’t take it all that well—
You were conflicted, you cared about Miguel but you’re morals and beliefs were very important to you— defined who you were. They were instilled into you by your father and you truly believed that by following through with them to the end you were keeping his legacy alive.
And they were loud in your ears right now, deafening in their prominent voice as you watched Miles get more and more tightly wound.
The thing was.. you agreed with him. And your father would’ve agreed with him too. There is no way Miguel knows for absolute certainty that Miles’ universe would collapse if he saved his father. And there’s no way any of the other spider variants could possibly know either.
There were facts and evidence on Miguel’s side but again— your values were speaking much louder than him. Because your father would’ve been disgusted by the behavior these spider variants were displaying, and he would’ve straight up hated Miguel. That you were absolutely sure of.
“This is wrong Miguel,” you spoke up and the spider variant you were speaking of turned to look at you. “You’re just going to let someone die when you know you could change the outcome? How could you possibly think that’s okay?”
“[Y/Name]—”
“Spider-Man isn’t about the acceptance of loss and grief yet to come, Spider-Man is about hope, hope and promise of a greater tomorrow. Hope that there will always be someone there to help… someone there to protect those who can’t do so themselves.”
“The security of the multiverse is important!” Miguel argued, his tone aggressive and his expression frustrated as he ignored the ache on his chest. The ache that had erupted into existence at the expense of his theory proving correct— you would be against him.
“No! What’s important is not standing by and allowing someone to suffer or die! If that’s truly what you believe, then you don’t know the first damn thing about being Spider-Man!”
“[Y/Name]…” Peter B. trailed as he got your attention, walking closer to you and putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “We cannot interfere.”
You smacked his hand off your shoulder and stepped back and away from him several times to be standing beside Miles instead. “You too? Peter this is wrong, so unbelievably fucking wrong!”
“[Y/Name], I can’t let you get in the way. I’m sorry.” Miguel apologized before he was throwing something at yours and Miles’ feet. The device activated and put up a scarlet force field, Miles panicked and beat against the walls. As the variants outside the force field argued you looked to Miguel and Miguel only. And he looked right back. You just stared at him, eyes hard and brows taut and pulled together as he stared right back.
You ignored Miles as he continued to search for a way out, Miguel finally pulled his eyes off yours as Peter B. advanced on him. “Miguel! This is taking it too far!”
“He’ll only do more damage, we all know that!”
As they continued to argue outside the shield you turned your back on Miguel and flexing your fingers extended your thick and powerful claws. You could tear this force field apart if you truly tried, that’s what you were going to do. But before you could even put your hands up your senses tingled and you instinctively put your arms around your head to protect yourself as the shield was destroyed by a powerful electrical surge.
When Miles destroyed the force field he hesitated for but a single moment before he turned, grabbed your wrist and took off.
“[Y/NAME]!”
You distantly heard behind you before you were freeing yourself from Miles to run beside him instead, and you two sprinted through Miguel’s headquarters with you leading him seeing as you’ve already been there for close to a little more than six months.
Getting out wasn’t hard, at least not for you. The variants certainly tried but they weren’t any match for you. A well seasoned and thoroughly trained hero with twelve years of polishing your expertise and craft to a fine point.
Miles had a little trouble keeping up but you didn’t get too far ahead of him in which he couldn’t follow, you two only got separated once. And whilst you weren’t entirely sure where he’d gone off to, you had the absolute pleasure of facing off against Miguel (note the sarcasm).
Your senses tingled as you discreetly swung through the underbelly of Miguel’s HQ, and you pulled yourself up just in time to avoid Miguel’s web. And the two of you fought and danced around each other throughout headquarters. Miguel trying to capture you and yourself avoiding that outcome at all costs by expertly evading him. When you had finally reached outside you met up again with Miles on the train overhead cover that was speeding upon a vertical track at astronomical velocity.
It was hard to hang on, even more so with Miguel on your ass but you made due. Better you than Miles and you’d gladly fend off Miguel for him if it meant he could find his way home to save his dad in time. Maybe it was a selfish part of you that wished something for him that you wanted to have, or maybe you truly just wished only the best for the younger variant.
Either way, Miguel was kicking your ass instead of his and you could live with that.
The 2099 Spider-Man choke slammed you onto the cold, hard metal of the futuristic locomotive and pinned you there by a hand around your neck.
“Can’t you see?! He’s the original anomaly! He’s not meant to be here! He is not Spider-Man!” The man snarled in your face. The anger he was feeling making his fangs appear and he sneered down at you, bearing them ferociously.
“He’s more Spider-Man than you’ll ever be!” You retaliated, attempting any sharp words pointed enough to cut him deep and painful. And you watched as his face turned and grew solemn for only one second before he was darkening his expression and snarling at you again.
“I hate to do this to you, but I can’t lose you over this!” He yelled over the roaring grind of the moving train. And your heart fell to your toes when he beared his fangs again— this time with a wide open mouth. A second later he was lunging forward intent to inject your body with venom.
You thanked whatever god above was listening for your much quicker reflexes as you caught him by the lower jaw and redirected his lunge to the air beside you instead.
Then you were bringing your legs up and forcing him away from you, not wasting a second you shot a web to the top car of the locomotive. You pulled yourself all the way up to where Miles had perched himself, and just before you could get a word out Miguel erupted out of nowhere and tackled Miles down.
You moved to help but got a web wrapped around your wrist instead, whoever shot it pulled you off your feet and then you found yourself under Peter B. Parker and Mayday instead.
“[Y/Name], enough!”
“No!”
“You can’t change destiny!” He argued, just as Miguel had done before, pinning you to the ground— though Peter’s was less of an attempt to capture you and just in a way to get you to listen to him.
“We control our own destiny Peter.”
“This’ll put the multiverse in danger! If you’d known your father would’ve been killed that night would you have saved him even if it meant there was an off-chance of your dimension being destroyed?!” Peter was just trying to reason with you now, and you stared directly into his warm brown eyes as you answered him.
“Without question.”
Peter drew back a bit at your response, then you watched behind him as Miguel flew overhead. That was your cue, so you grabbed Peter’s shoulders and utilized the enhanced strength of your specialty skills to push him off you.
Not enough to hurt him or Mayday but enough to give you space to escape, which you did. Once given enough breathing room to leap you leapt, jumping from the locomotive to fly through the air instead. Miles followed you, and Miguel was right behind.
You didn’t get much of that end of the chase, swinging directly to the headquarters and sneaking in past Kess and standing on the platform the machine usually used to send variants back to their proper dimensions.
It was minutes later when the machine suddenly came to life and you watched as the numerous screens turned on, looking a little closer you saw that it was Miles and that he was using his invisibility power to get the machine up and going.
Seconds later you felt his presence land beside you, and as the mechanical spider above lowered down and began creating the web to send Miles home and consequently you to his universe— Miguel erupted through the glass doors like a bat out of Hell.
And you stood back and watched as he sprinted to the platform’s edge, leapt over the gap and began furiously clawing at the web’s exterior.
Just as he was pulling it apart, the sequence completed and you and Miles were lifted into the air as the portal was created before the machine was throwing the two of you through the multiverse and into Miles’ universe.
• After the exhausting and frustrating chase, and even more annoying escape you and Miles had made.. you decided to follow him to his dimension, if only just to see that he’d be okay
• But he took off the second he was back in his own universe (or so you thought) and you were quick to follow, calling out his name in an attempt to get him to slow down but he did not listen
• So you just followed as he swiftly made his way to his apartment, only upon arrival you decided it might be best if you stayed outside which is exactly what you did, and you listened as he told his mom the truth and she responded with a question of her own not knowing who he was referring to
• When your spider senses started tingling uncontrollably is when you though something might be wrong so you webbed yourself to the roof of the building directly across Miles’ apartment and just observed from there
• As you watched him interact with a man that you assumed was his uncle your senses tingled again only it was too late to react when a muscled arm wrapped around your waist and a gloved hand covered your mouth, and then you were pulled backwards and through the portal into another dimension
• Upon arrival at the new universe you were pinned to the ground on your stomach by a heavy weight much larger and much stronger atop you, holding your arms in the small of your back and forcing you tighter against the ground
• You knew it was Miguel and you knew that unlike back at headquarters this pinch would be tighter to get yourself out of— so you didn’t intend to fight against him, you’d already done more than enough for Miles and on the off chance he still needed you then and only then would you fight for him again
• Until then, you’d accepted the fact you’d been captured, so you slumped to the rain soaked concrete of the building’s roof, and as you lay there you could only hope Miles had reached his father on time
—
a/n: Feel like it got kinda lame at the end but I hope you enjoyed the first post of the blog regardless! I’m super excited to get this blog started! Spiderverse is my hyper-fixation right now so that’s what I’ll be focusing on for a moment! Again, hope you enjoyed! Ciao!
#across the spider verse#spider man across the spider verse#miles morales#hobie brown#gwen stacy#pavitr prabhakar#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x platonic! reader#miles x reader#hobie x reader#gwen x reader#pavitr x reader#platonic reader#platonic imagine#platonic relationships#miguel o’hara x teen!reader
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°•*⁀➷ BEACH DAY: CROCODILE
꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Crocodile is a king, and kings don't fulfill anyone's wishes, unless that someone is you. The small, young and only son of one of the most feared pirates, a child who would never have his desires denied by his father.
꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Platonic! Crocodile, IT'S NOT A ROMANTIC STORY, Dad! Crocodile, Child! Reader, Male! Child! Reader, difficult childhood due your Dad's business, mentions a lonely childhood, mean children
꒰ WC ꒱ : 995
꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Trying to back in my schedule of posting and writing, I'm passing through some bad time with a lot of personal problems so my mind is kinda off for everything, but at least I gonna try to post what I already had (I always say that and never do) anyway enjoy :p
Firstly, your father would be extremely offended if his precious son asked to go to the beach. Dear, your father is the king of the desert and is literally made of sand, why on earth would you want to go to a beach full of stupid people with dirty sand?
Of course, just as Crocodile is unable to refuse your requests every time, what can he do? He spoiled his little boy a little… so soon he's planning a trip to the beach while putting up with you talking about it every day since you as a little child couldn't contain your excitement.
Initially he thought about going to a private beach, he could rent an entire island just to avoid other people, but when you looked at him with those huge puppy eyes saying “but then there won't be other children for me to play with?” He gave up and was at your feet again, bless you, your perfect son who had him wrapped around your finger.
He agreed to go to a public beach, but that doesn't change that he didn't want many people, so he planned to go to a less inhabited island and during a period when there would be fewer people, of course, he made sure the beach was very beautiful and big enough so you can have the most fun. He wasn't ruining her experience for his own selfish limits.
Father of sunscreen, Crocodile doesn't want to see you turning into a pepper, so he makes sure you're completely white from all the sunscreen. It's a little difficult to do this with just one hand, but you were always a patient child and helped your father without any problems, soon you were ready, with your crocodile themed children's swimwear, your colorful floaties and animation for a lifetime.
Crocodile wasn't very excited about swimwear either, so he just wore an open shirt and longer shorts. The problem was that everyone on the beach was staring at the seductive man, was it his fault for being so handsome? Of course, having Daz Bones next to him staring deathly at everyone ensured that no one bothered him, which was perfect for the pirate.
Swimming too deep is a big no, Crocodile can't swim and that means he can't rescue you if you start to sink, not only that, but most of his employees are also Devil Fruit users, which just makes it difficult for him to be sure you will be fine in the water. Now if he goes with you to the beach with a non-user, like Mihawk for example, he may be more comfortable with you going to the deeper parts, accompanied of course.
Crocodile is also very careful about keeping you well hydrated. He knows that children are more sensitive, so he is constantly calling you to drink water, juices or any other liquid. Luckily, you are very obedient and don't waste the chance to drink something delicious, so it was easy to keep it under control. Crocodile also didn't trust just any restaurant or food vendor, so he hired a chef to prepare everything you could want to eat on the beach, whether it was fried fish or ice cream, you had everything at your disposal, prepared by someone you trusted, so Crocodile knew you I wasn't taking any risks.
He gets a little apprehensive when you get close to other children, Crocodile is extremely protective of you. After all, you are his greatest treasure, he would kill and die to prevent you from getting hurt in any way, but when he sees you smiling while playing with the children, he feels his heart relax, in the end, you are still a child, and he doesn't want to in no way to deprive you of having a normal childhood. He already knows how terrible it must be for you to be the son of a pirate, to live on a ship without ever settling on an island for long, the lack of children for you to live with, you can't even go to school, and instead you study with him, his life is not normal like most children and any opportunity he has to give you some moments of a normal childhood he is definitely doing it. He just wants you to grow up happy, regardless of everything.
Now, that doesn't mean he won't be a protective father. All he has to do is see you building your beautiful sandcastle, which he may have helped to stand with his powers without you realizing, when another older child approaches. He is reluctant but doesn't want to act immediately, it's only when the child kicks his castle that he gets angry, then a wave of sand covers the child, knocking him to the ground, the boy has probably swallowed enough sand to never but forget the taste. As soon as the boy runs away crying to his parents, Crocodile rebuilds his entire sandcastle before you can even miss him or cry about it. Your bright smile along with a “thank you daddy” makes it all worth it.
Although he enjoyed the beach day, which basically consisted of him sitting around watching you being a normal kid and having fun and the occasional discussion about business with Daz, the best part for Crocodile is when it starts to get dark, and you're already too tired. He carries you in his arms, using his powers to clean all the sand from your body, you are completely exhausted and sleep like a rock, with the only detail of holding your father's shirt with your small hand.
Crocodile just puts pajamas on you, preferring that you take a shower when you're awake, then he puts you in his bed and covers you. You have a huge smile on your face and are probably having sweet dreams, he watches you for a few moments before leaving to finish some things and then going to sleep.
#one piece x reader#one piece imagine#anime imagines#one piece x male reader#one piece x masc reader#one piece x trans male reader#one piece x transmasc reader#one piece x child reader#crocodile x reader#Crocodile x child reader#crocodile x son reader#x child reader#x male child reader#x male reader#x masc reader#male imagines#platonic imagine#x
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address the letters: “to the holes in my butterfly wings”
pairing: Kix and GN padawan reader (platonic)
Word count, guys it’s basically 10 K 💀bc apparently I am in capable of writing anything short.
tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood and injury, medical procedures
summary:
In which, the CMO of Torrent Company discovers that you, a Padawan under his care have been hiding injuries and skipping medical checks, and now must take care of you as you suffer the consequences of your actions.
Also known as
Why you should never hide an injury from Kix. he will find out, and he will drag you off to the medbay so that he can take care of whatever mess you’ve made of yourself, scolding you all the wile.
“Look what I found on my bunk.”
You’re interrupted from eating your sandwich in the Cantina when Fives plops down beside you at the table, setting down a tray of food and waving a pink slip of paper in your face.
You’re about to tell him that “Can’t you see that you’re eating and get this paper out of my face,” when your eyes catch on three words written in bold text across the top of the page.
Mandatory vaccination updates.
The sandwich, that up until this point has been the absolute centre of your attention, listen, you’re fighting a war and you have to appreciate any opportunity that you get to eat food that isn’t bland ration bars, drops out of your suddenly limp hand as you snatch up the paper, now very interested in the contents.
“When did you get this?” you ask slowly, you’re voice distracted, beginning to chew on your lower lip, already feeling the nervous coil in your stomach.
“When I came back to my bunk after the debriefing we had this afternoon. Apparently everyone got one. I bet you 10 credits that your master is going to pretend that he didn’t see it, and try and avoid it until Kix has to tear apart the ship looking for him and drag him to the medbay.” Fives chuckles.
Master Skywalker’s reputation for trying to avoid the medbay at all costs is widely known throughout Torrent Company..
“Kix is going to have a field day. I’ll give it to general Skywalker, he has some creative hiding places,” he continues, eyes lighting up at the memory of Anakin, half hazardously crammed into a supply closet, folded in an impressive, yet uncomfortable looking position as he forced his unwitting tall limbs to fit in the cramped space.
Unfortunately for Kix, your masters habit of avoiding the medbay whenever possible has rubbed off on you, though, you don’t think it’s for the same reason. Your avoidance stems from a place of fear, and, okay, a stubborn insistence that you can take care of yourself, which yes, definitely like master, like apprentice.
But that also stems from a fear. You’re determined to prove yourself, especially being a young Padawan working with those who are much more experienced than you. You don’t want to risk being taken off the field because of some stupid injury, and letting those who rely on you down, especially your master, who’s always bouncing back and getting up and ready to take on whatever is next regardless of what kind of peril he’s just come out of. You want, you need, to prove that just because you’re a Padawan, you’re not a liability, but an asset. You can be strong and resilient like master Skywalker.
So, you avoid. You dodge and you ignore and you pretend not to notice when the routine medical check dates come and go without your attendance. You know it’s only a matter of time before Kix gets on your ass about it. You’re surprised that you’ve kept it up this long. But, this only bolsters your confidence in being able to avoid another successfully.
“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the paper back down on the table before you run off into the crowd.
*
Sure enough, there is an identical slip of paper that’s been placed on your bunk. But conveniently, Jedi master Aayla Secura is going on a diplomatic mission to amid rim planet in a last ditch effort to try and convince them not to secede from the republic during the date that’s listed on the page when you’re scheduled for your vaccinations.
Earlier this morning, master Skywalker had asked if you had wanted to join this mission, saying that it would give you a break from being on the frontlines, and it would be easy enough to arrange, as master Secura would rendezvous with the 501st before she departed.
This morning, you had turned him down, listing several reasons as to why you needed to stay with the 501st. Your troops needed you, diplomatic missions were boring anyways, and you didn’t think that you would be of much help to the experienced and capable master Secura, who was a formidable diplomat in her own right. You didn’t think you would be able to add anything of particular value to the conversation, at least nothing that master Secura wouldn’t be able to say much more eloquently and better.
Now though, the only thing that’s running through your mind is the fear of needles and the dread of going into the medbay and that’s enough to make you reconsider everything you had said.
When you tell master Skywalker that you’ve changed your mind, and would actually like to accompany Aayla on her mission, he’s slightly confused considering you had been so adamant that you were needed here only just a few hours ago.
But, he knows that as a Jedi, you need diplomatic experience. Experience that, before the war, would be very easy for Padawan’s to come by. He knows that you don’t have nearly as much as you should.
These are unprecedented times, though, and Padawan’s being trained during an active war is not ideal. He wants for you to be well-rounded. He has hope that your future won’t always involve war at the centre of it, and any opportunity that you get to learn how to be a keeper of peace should always be encouraged, especially during these times.
So he gives in pretty easily, and when master Secura arrives, you happily join her. When the ramp of the ship seals behind you and you’re sitting with her in the cockpit, the warm relief that flows through your bones is palpable.
“Success,” you think to yourself triumphantly.
*
Your triumph, however glorious it might have felt in the moment, is short-lived.
In spite of the fact that some old injuries, that you honestly thought you had done a pretty good job at taking care of yourself, were starting to aggravate you again, the unexpected joy and relief that weaved itself through the force, openly shared between you and master Secura, surrounded you like a warm blanket, protecting you from feeling the things that hurt you.
The planet you had just visited had agreed to stay with the republic, after a tense three days of debate between its political factions. The victory Was a surprise, considering how vehemently the opposition pushed to secede, but it was not unwelcome.
Aayla’s T-6 shuttle docks in the hanger bay of the much larger 501st transport. As you wait for the doors to open and the ramp to fold down before you, you’re still riding on that high, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the thrill of a success. One that you are unable to feel on the frontlines, because even when your battles result in a victory, you are surrounded by so much death and violence that in the end, you don’t really feel like celebrating.
You’ll never admit it to your master, but privately, you think to yourself that maybe diplomatic missions aren’t as boring as you thought they were. You were able to help resolve a conflict, peacefully, without even having to brush your fingers against the hilt of your lightsaber, which, nowadays, is becoming more and more of a rare occurrence. But it’s what Jedi do, or at least, what they’re supposed to do, so you have to embrace the gratitude of the experience you just had, and try and take it with you going forward.
Your thoughts are preoccupied with these ideas swirling around your head, so you don’t see him until you’re stepping out onto the ramp of the T-6, descending into the hectic and busy as usual crowds of the hanger bay.
When you do, though, you stop dead, and your heart begins to race.
Shit.
Directly in front of you, at the bottom of the ramp, stands Kix.
One look at his expression, and your stomach flips.
His lips are set in a thin, unreadable line, his brow creased as he observes you with pinpoint focus. Stern, brown eyes observe your every movement. There’s no question that the second you step off the ramp, he’s going to pounce on you like a cat seizing a mouse.
He stands at attention, body forced into an unbending straight line, such positions you mostly see on the shiny’s, new troopers who are freshly trained during their first days out on the field. His hands are placed on his hips, the position that he assumes before he’s about to give someone, it’s usually your master who you’ve seen it directed at, the lecture of their life.
“Keep moving,” your brain supplies. “Act nonchalant, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be fine.”
You feel your feet hit solid ground, and your speed picks up, all along, your brain is screaming at you to move. It’s weird how now that he’s standing in front of you, every injury you’ve accumulated over the past weeks is beginning to hit you, all comfort and protection that the force has been giving you to keep you going rapidly vanishing with each step you take.
The uncomfortable angle that your shoulder is sitting at, the pulling of stitches in your leg as you increase your speed. It throbs and aches with sudden abandon. But your fists clench, and you do your best not to falter under Kix’s unwavering scrutiny, just knowing that he’s looking for any flicker of weakness, any sign of pain that registers on your face.
“Just keep going, and maybe, you’ll be able to slip past...”
He steps in front of you, reaching an arm out to easily intercept your path. He says your name, in a tone that breaches absolutely no room for trying to ignore it.
You jump, startled in spite of yourself. He’s effectively got you cornered, and seeing that there’s no way out of this, Your nerves begin to skyrocket, raising like the sound of alarm bells in your head. You look up, eyes meeting his unwaveringly stern expression, And suddenly, you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
He looks down at you, and he must see something in your disposition that belies your true feelings, because though his face remains set, his eyes somewhat soften, and when he next speaks, his voice is quiet but firm.
“Come with me, please. I need to see you in the medbay.” Though he’s phrased it as a request, you know that it is an order, and one that you must follow.
As a medic for the GAR, and this is something that you’ve heard him say to many a complaining troopers being escorted to the medbay when they don’t want to go, it is well within his rights to exercise such authority and make these orders. Because when it comes to the health and safety of every 501st personnel, whether you’re a Jedi general, commander, or Padawan, Kix immediately outranks you.
You look down at the floor, suddenly finding the marks that are speckled across it very interesting, and mumble a defeated and quiet “Yes sir.”
When he turns, and you hesitate to follow, he lets out a gentle sigh, moving to place a hand on the small of your back. His voice is low, but reassuring as he ushers you forward.
“Come on, kid, you’re okay,” he breathes, and in spite of the fact that you’re still thinking that jumping out of an airlock would be better than this, your feet, still unwilling, but the slightest bit reassured, begin to move.
*
Coric giving you a subtle pitying glance as he’s reading over a patient’s chart when Kix escorts you into the medbay makes you want to vomit.
Between the two medics, Kix has the reputation of being a hardass because he’s the CMO. Make no mistake, you do not want to get on either of their bad sides. But, given the choice between the two right now, you think you’re more equipped to handle Coric, who can usually be counted on to soften the blow a bit, with enough pleading glances and apologies.
Your eyes flit to the door that you’ve just passed through, because stupidly, your brain is still trying to make the calculations that if you can just duck out of Kix’s grasp for two seconds, you’d be able to make a run for it.
Unbeknownst to you, however, both medics have been carefully observing your every movement since you’ve entered. Coric, remaining completely calm and at ease, rises to his feet, moving swiftly to stand in the doorway in several long strides. He casually leans against the frame, arms folded.
“Don’t even think about it, baby Jedi. Your master has attempted the same thing you are considering, and he has always failed,” he says, keeping his voice light and non-threatening, making it clear that you need to give up on your fantasy of bolting out of here, but also not trying to scare you off..
You’re just beginning to wonder how the kriff they were able to read you so easily, with one covert glance determining that you were about to bolt when Kix removes his hand from the small of your back, instead, fingers coming to gently grip your shoulder.
The change in his hold is obvious. He is fully prepared for if you try to run. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, in what you interpret as a warning not to.
Unfortunately, he’s just touched on an injury, you’re not entirely sure what you did, but you messed up your shoulder the last time you were on the field, and even the slight pressure elicits a sharp intake of breath that you’re unable to stop from escaping your lips, and that immediately has the attention of both medics laser focussed on you.
Kix’s anticipation evaporates and quickly melts into concern. Carefully, so carefully, he turns you to face him, keen eyes sharp as they analyze your face.
“Hey,” he calls softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Tell me where it hurts,” he says, so gently that it makes your eyes burn with shame. You look down at your feet.
“That’s uh... that’s, a loaded question,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your tone light and joking, in spite of the fact that now that you’re thinking about it, the list of injuries you’ve sustained without reporting to the medbay is a lengthy one, and might make Kix have a stroke.
Kix lets out a controlled, slow breath, eyes momentarily finding the ceiling as he silently begs the stars to give him strength.
“Kaysh Mirsh solus,” he mutters to himself.
You’ve heard Kix toss that phrase around the medbay on multiple occasions, and though you’re uncertain of what it actually means, he usually brings it out when one of his brothers has done something that he would consider incredibly stupid, which is often.
Coric makes a noise of agreement. “It appears that our stupidly self-sacrificing general has passed on his stupid self sacrificing behaviour onto his apprentice,” he groans. “Will we ever know a day of peace?”
Kix looks back down at you, his expression calm and restrained. “Come on, then, let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” moving his hand to your uninjured shoulder, he steers you both further into the medbay.
*
Your eyes don’t leave the ground, but you can hear the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled shut around the cubicle that Kix has brought you to.
When an eerily familiar pink slip of paper is being held up in front of your downcast eyes, you cringe, Arms wrapping around yourself in defence
You can’t even pretend that you haven’t seen it before, because the words mandatory vaccination updates have been circling around your brain the whole time you were out on your last mission.
“Do you know why the GAR enforces these?” Kix begins, and his voice is too measured and calm.
You lift a brow, questioning. Does he seriously expect you to answer this? Isn’t the answer obvious?
“Uh... so that we don’t get sick?” You answer, uncertain as to what he’s getting at.
He nods, his face displaying a slight flicker of approval. “Yes, that is one reason as to why, and it’s an acceptable one,” he acknowledges. His frown deepens as he continues. “However, one must look at the much larger picture, at every personnel aboard this ship. The most important reason why mandatory vaccinations are enforced is so that we can avoid many people getting sick and spreading illness to the rest of the crew, so that we may remain fully functional and operational, continuing to serve and protect the people of the republic.”
You squirm beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this, and it’s incredibly discomforting.
“I would’ve thought, that as a Jedi, you would be able to more easily see this bigger picture than most others,” he observes mildly. “After all, I know, and I’m sure everyone who spends a considerable amount of time with you can see that there is so much compassion and care for others within your very nature.”
His voice is so genuine, laced with such real kindness in his tone that it makes your eyes sting. Your heart constricts, because he’s just pointed out something that you hadn’t even considered in your selfish haste to avoid this.
By avoiding your vaccinations, you have put every member of the 501st who works with you in danger.
Your arms wrap tighter around yourself, and you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at the pristine white floor beneath your feet.
Kix senses that he’s hit a mark, and his voice gentles considerably. “I also understand that you are young, and still learning to see the bigger picture and how your actions can affect those around you.”
“I, I didn’t, I was scared and I just I didn’t think about...” your voice trembles as you try to answer, tumbling out in a rush of words that race as quickly as your heart.
“I understand, and it is perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way,” he keeps his voice level and measured. “However,” he continues, and you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “We still have to face the things that scare us. If you had simply told me how you were feeling, we would have figured out a way to navigate it.” His face is reassuring when you dare to glance up from the floor that you’ve been resolutely staring at for this whole conversation.
“We still will figure out the best way to proceed. However, these vaccination updates are very low on my priority list of concerns when it comes to you, compared to this,” and he holds up a datapad, displaying medical records with your name typed neatly across the top.
The last several appointment entries are highlighted in red, indicating that you did not attend any of them.
“Do I need to remind you that these appointments are not optional. Any member of Torrent Company who goes out on the field must report to the medbay upon return for examination, as well as attend our regular medical checks to ensure that you are fit for active duty.” It’s clear from the tone of his voice that this is a lecture that he is very practised in delivering.
You lift your head, finally looking directly at him. He’s already made you admit a fear that you desperately wanted to keep to yourself. You try and summon what remains of your dignity.
“What do you want me to say, Kix?” There’s a hint of defiance in your voice.
“Do you want me to admit that I avoided these because I had injuries that I didn’t want you to know about? Because yes, the truth is that I did.” Your eyes level with his as you try to make him understand.
“I was scared of the medical procedures, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” You snap, not particularly annoyed with him, but more annoyed at the fact that your answers sound so stupid out loud.
“But I was more scared of the fact that you were probably going to take me off the field, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen. My master was relying on me. Everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t let them down.” You try to shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Besides, I’ve been doing fine,” you say evasively.
Kix does not rise to the bate of your seeming anger. He’s much too practised and controlled to let it affect him. He also has the uncanny ability to look at someone, and see everything, read through their feelings, whether they’ve been acknowledged or not, and understand them. So, even though you’re trying to push him away, with what at first glance appears to be frustration, underneath it all, he can tell that it’s just as plainly fear.
He meets your storm filled eyes unflinchingly, levelling you with a look that is equal parts stern and unwavering, and equal parts concerned and filled with compassion. It makes your insides twist with guilt, and you want to look away, but you can’t bring yourself to as he speaks, his voice calm but steely.
“Are you fine?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he tilts his head to look at you, his gaze clinical, assessing, even as you just stand there in front of him.
. “I already know that there’s something wrong with your shoulder. But aside from that, I’ve been observing you since you got off your transport. The way you move is slow and careful, not at all like the usual way you dash around the ship. Even now, you’re hesitating to put much weight on your right leg.” He ticks off the things he’s noticed on his fingers like a list.
“Apart from the fact that skipping these mandatory appointments have consequences. If you had kept this up, I would’ve had to bring this to our superiors, that includes the Jedi council,” he gives you a pointed look, even the mention of the high Council makes you shiver. in your experience, whenever you and your master have been summoned to speak with the council, it’s always to be reprimanded, and never good.
. “You could have been Court-martialed,” he says, knowing that his words will hit the severity of the situation home.
You falter, stepping back as you feel your eyes go wide. “Court-martialed?” you breathe, feeling the blood draining from your face.
He gently takes your arm, guiding you to sit on a bed as he continues, voice softening. “It is very clear that you are hiding injuries, and though I can understand why, in premise, You did this, the reality is that this will begin to affect your performance in battle. It will not just affect you. You will put yourself, as well as the entirety of the people you are leading, in danger. People could get hurt. You could get hurt. Because you would be putting not just yourself, but others, in unnecessary danger, your ability to be in the position of a commander could be called into serious question by your superiors, and for good reason”
As much as he keeps his voice low and calm, you can sense that he’s disappointed in the way that you’ve handled yourself. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, forcing the tears that prick at the back of your eyes to not fall. You hate disappointing people, and the fact that you’ve managed to disappoint Kix, one of the kindest people you know, makes you want to curl up into a ball and never show your face in public again.
“And that, the safety of yourself, and everyone aboard this ship, is my priority. It is much more important to me than having to report to any superior. The fact that you hold your safety, and by extension, the safety of those around you, with such blatant disregard, is what concerns me the most, and that is what I need you to understand.”
There’s a certain gravity in his voice that you’ve never heard before, but it slams into your chest and hits you like a ton of bricks. The implications of what you’ve been doing, of what could have happened to those around you, to his brothers, because of your inability to face your fears begin to swirl around your head with a rapidity that makes your heart race.
These thoughts come unbidden, and too fast for you to process. The tears, that you’ve been so desperately trying to push back, spring free and begin to fall down your cheeks, unprompted, slowly, and silently. You don’t have time to stop them from coming.
Kix knows that he’s been very direct, and very blunt with you, deciding that this would be the only way to get through to you. He hates having to do it, though. Kix considers himself to be a fairly good judge of character, and he knows that you have such a caring, gentle heart and strong presence wherever you go. So, watching you break in front of him like this pains him.
Your breath hitches in an unsteady gasp as you look up at him, tears blurring your vision.
“I’m sorry, Ori’vod,” your lip trembles as your voice breaks, wanting to curl in on yourself. “Ni ceta,” you get out in barely a choked whisper.
But he hears you, and it breaks him.
You’ve never referred to him as ori’vod before, and the idea that you consider him as such, as a big brother, awakens his protective, instinctive nature to gather you close and keep you safe from harm.
His Vod, mostly his batchmate, Jesse, calls it his mother hen instincts.
He can’t help it, though. Your voice, sounding so much smaller than he’s ever heard it, trembling and filled with tears, has broken what’s left of his resolve, and gently, very gently, mindful of the fact that you’re injured, he takes you into his arms, holding you close to him. Your head buries against his shoulder, and he easily cradles you there, feeling every sharp intake of breath as you cry.
“Oh, adika, shh,” he soothes, hand coming up to gently stroke your hair as he continues to speak softly to you. “You’re okay, I promise, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you, we are going to sort this out.”
*
“Well,” he says, reading over the results of the medical scan he’s just performed. Would you believe me if I told you that a dislocated shoulder is the least of your concerns?”
Your eyes find the ceiling, and you exhale a slow breath before asking, “how bad?”
He keeps his voice neutral as he relays the results of the scan to you. “According to your last medical check, you were diagnosed with Iron deficiency anemia, not incredibly uncommon, what with our limited access to rations and food with the proper nutrients,” his brow creases as he continues. “However, preliminary scans indicate that your haemoglobin levels haven’t much improved.”
He gives you a look.“You have been taking the supplement you were prescribed?” he asks, in a way that makes you suspicious that he already knows that the answer is no.
You avoid looking at him. “I was, but they kept making my stomach feel queasy all day, so I stopped.”
Kix Lets out a long suffering sigh. “An issue that we easily could have rectified by changing your treatment plan if you had just let us know,” he scolds. “Nonetheless, I’d like to do a blood test to get exact confirmation of those levels and see how bad the numbers are so that we can Start getting them back up to baseline.”
Your stomach does a flip and you cringe silently at the mention of a blood test.
Kix continues, consulting the scan results that are displayed on a datapad. “You’ve got untreated burns on your fingers.” He raises a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks flush.
“They weren’t entirely untreated, I put them under running water,” you try to argue. The unimpressed look he gives you stops you dead in your tracks.
“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” you defend. “I was fixing one of the starfighters that got hit during our last airstrike. I got R2 to help me with the repairs but he wasn’t listening to my instructions. He crossed two of the wrong wires and caused the circuitboard to spark.”
“And that is why you should never ask R2 for help,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those burns weren’t given time to heal, and the fact that you’re constantly wielding a lightsaber has exacerbated them. I will apply a burn ointment to them that should take away the pain and speed the process of healing.”
He fixes you with a look.
“The most concerning thing is The blaster wound on the front of your right calf. Really, vod, you should know that injuries being treated and stitched up on the field, especially when not done by a medic, always should be looked over by a medic as soon as possible, due to the unsanitary environment that they were performed in.”
“Tup did his best to stitch it,” you say, feeling the need to defend the brother who, in spite of the fact that he was not a medic, sutured you up as you took cover from separatist battle droids.
“I don’t doubt that he did. I was the instructor who took every single one of the troopers on this ship through their mandatory medical courses, and I did not let them pass without proving that they were adequately able to handle emergency first aid on the field. However, it still remains that you’ve picked up an infection, and to treat it, the sutures will have to be removed, the wound reopened, and extraction of the infected tissue, as well as a course of both IV and oral antibiotics to clear up anything that remains.”
You stare at him, your eyes growing wide with horror as he explains. “How?” You ask, alarmed.
He senses your nerves and leans forward, taking your hand and running his thumb along the back of it reassuringly. “This is a surgical procedure, performed under general anesthesia.”
You flinch at his words, and your fingers tighten around his with anxiety, needing something to hold onto.
“I know that sounds scary, especially if you’ve never been put under before. But I promise, this is a fairly common operation. Me and Coric will both be here making sure that you’re okay the whole time.” he continues to stroke his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.
“Let’s take this one step at a time, though. We’ll take care of the things that are manageable, first,” he says, giving you an encouraging smile.
*
“Hey uh...” you say nervously, watching with anxiety fluttering in your stomach as Kix ties a band just above your elbow, prepping you for the blood draw. The way the band tightens, restricts and squeezes around your arm Makes you feel trapped. You hate it.
“I have... I’ve had, issues in the past when it comes to these,” you say awkwardly, not knowing how to explain.
Kix only looks up at you, raising a perceptive brow. “Are you referring to your predisposition of fainting whenever a blood draw is performed?” he asks, completely unfazed.
It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows in questioning. “Don’t worry, Coric already has this listed in your file. I’m going to get you to lie down when we do it.”
He has the sensitivity and grace not to mention the fact that he also knows this because he walked into the medbay to find Coric absolutely tearing into a junior medic for letting you leave too soon after you had gotten a blood draw, resulting in you crumpling to the floor in a faint right outside of the medbay doors.
At your continued staring, he adds, his voice softening. “It’s a normal reaction, that likely is exacerbated because of your low haemoglobin levels. There’s nothing wrong with you, Vod’ika.” he reassures, gently guiding you to lay down on the bed. “Now, just lay down for me, and we’ll get this over with quickly, and if you faint, you faint. It happens, no big deal, I’ll be right here regardless.”
And because you’re you, you do faint.
The needle itself is always not as bad as you anticipate it being. The Sting, though prominent, is small and quick and over before you have time to fixate on it.
It’s only when he’s pressing a cotton swab into the crook of your arm, encouraging you to keep it in place while he puts a Band-Aid over top, that you register the familiar feeling of drowsiness, vision blurring and ears beginning to ring, that always comes before you pass out.
You think that you might give him some indication, some warning, because he’s removing your hand from where it’s been pressing against the cotton round, replacing it with his own, much more steady one. Everything around you is muffled, and it’s jarring, but in a way that is too far away from your immediate concerns to really react to it.
When you come to, he’s pressing a cool, damp cloth to the back of your neck, other hand gently stroking hair away from your forehead. His voice fades back into your consciousness, a stream of gentle, soothing words as your eyes flutter open.
The feeling of the cloth cools your heated skin, and the hand gently running through your hair brings your senses back to focus, grounding you.
“Easy, adika, i’m right here, you’re safe,” he brushes his fingers against your cheek, and when you react, leaning into his touch, he gives you a small smile. “That’s it, there we go, you’re back. Everything’s good,” he soothes, gently stalling your movement when you attempt to sit up.
“Not right now, vod, stay down for a few more minutes. I’ve already got the blood work running through the scanner, and we should have its results quickly, okay.” You give him a small nod, still not really having the energy to do much else. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you come back to yourself, and when the scanner beeps, indicating that it completed its diagnostics, you jump slightly.
Kix moves over to check it as you slowly sit up. “Okay, so, your numbers are definitely not nearly where they should be he says, clearly unimpressed.
“But, Once we have taken care of your more serious injuries, will start you with an iron infusion delivered through an IV before transitioning back to pills. Don’t worry, we’ll have you on a much smaller dosage so that we can hopefully circumvent the discomfort you had in your stomach,” he says with optimism, which makes you feel slightly better about the fact that he’s just mentioned an IV. You’re not given much time to fixate on it, though, because he’s already turning away from the scanner, moving back to you.
“Let’s not worry about that right now, though. We have enough problems having to deal with the mess That you’ve made of yourself. I will do my best to resist calling you a di’kut as much as possible,” he says, hands on his hips, and in spite of yourself, it actually makes you laugh.
*
You didn’t realize how sore and irritated the burns on your hands were until you couldn’t hold back the audible sigh of relief that fell from your lips as soon as Kix began applying the burn cream to them. The pain instantly vanished, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. He wrapped small bacta patches around your injured fingers, explaining that it would make sure that the healing process was unimpeded by the outside environment.
That was easy, quick, painless.
Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. As soon as Kix touches it, as gentle as he can be, it flares with pain, and your muscles tense, which just makes it worse.
“I don’t know how you’ve been functioning with this for as long as you have,” he comments dryly. When his fingers press against the bone, assessing the damage with a practised familiarity, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.
“Haar’chak,” you grit out, as behind you, Kix preps a syringe with local anesthetic.
“Which one of my di’kut brothers taught you curse words in Mandoa?” he asks, beginning to disinfect the injection site.
You flinch at the cold and your cheeks flush. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I can’t tell you that, I made a promise.”
“Did you now?” he asks, fighting the amused smirk that plays on his lips. “Well, whoever it was, you might as well put your skills that they taught you to use.”
You look at him from over your shoulder, eyebrows raising in confusion.
He explains, “I need to give you an injection of local anaesthetic so that it takes the edge off of resetting your shoulder correctly. I know those aren’t your favourite , so, I am making a deal with you. Let me do this, and I give you free rein to throw whatever Mandoa insult my brothers have taught you at me, no consequences. Is that fair?”
The unimpressed look you’re giving at the syringe turns to surprise, then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face and you nod, quickly looking away from it. “Deal,” you accept, your voice still shaky with nerves but determined.
“Okay, deep breath for me,” He waits for you to inhale. “Perfect, now, on the exhale, give me that insult with all of your might. Ready?”
He waits for you to nod, then prompts you to exhale as he administers the anaesthetic into the back of your shoulder.
“Osi’yaim, that hurt, you di’kut,” what should be just a little pinch to your already injured shoulder makes you cry out the words, and you swear you can hear the familiar sound of Coric laughing from the other side of the medbay.
Your cheeks flush, you did not intend to be that loud. But you don’t apologize, either, and Kix only gives you a rueful grin, nodding in understanding.
As you wait for the anaesthetic to settle, Kix warns, “I’m gonna be honest, kid, because of how long you’ve left this injury to sit, even with the anesthetic, setting it is still going to hurt.”
You close your eyes, grimacing, before nodding with a sigh. “Do your worst,” you say, bracing yourself.
He lays a reassuring hand on your uninjured shoulder. “I need you relaxed, adika,” he says gently. “Trust me, it will only hurt more if you tense like that,” he continues, gently encouraging your shoulder downward with his hand.
“Easy, now. I want you to give me some good deep breath’s. In,” he inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds, “and out,” he lets his breath go in a controlled, slow stream of air.
He waits for you to copy, giving you a few breaths to settle into it as he prepares himself. “Perfect, just like that, keep it up, you’ve got this,” he keeps up the stream of encouraging words as carefully, but firmly, he rotates your arm, guiding your dislocated shoulder back into its proper place with one precise movement.
The sudden flare of pain, even dulled as it is by the anesthetic, takes your breath away momentarily, your vision instantly blurring with tears. When it clears,Kix has shifted to standing in front of you, gently wiping them away with his thumbs.
“Well done, vod’ika, you were so brave,” his words make you want to cry more, because you didn’t think you were brave. You thought that being brave meant confidence, at all times, and not letting other people see your vulnerability. You can’t fully understand it, but, now, you’re beginning to think that maybe your initial idea of bravery was wrong.
Your lip wobbles as you speak, “W what now?” you look up at him with wide, still watery eyes.
He gently strokes your hair. “Now, I’m going to get Coric, and you,” he playfully taps your nose, “are going to take a much-needed nap, if the bags under your eyes are any indication, while we take care of that leg wound.”
*
It sounds simple enough.
Kix explains the procedure while Coric preps you for surgery, making sure all your vitals are stable. As he wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, he tells you that that’s essentially his job while he’s in here. Throughout the surgery, he will monitor your vitals and make sure that they remain at safe levels.
“I’m going to remove the sutures, clean the wound, remove the infected tissue, pack the wound with saline soaked dressings, then bandage it back up so that it can heal. It goes without saying that you’re going to be off the field for at least a week. You’ll need to stay here so that we can continue to monitor your recovery as well as change the dressings often. You will also need to undergo a course of IV antibiotics to kill off any lingering infection. This will also give us time to get your haemoglobin levels back up with an infusion.”
Your eyes close tightly as anxiety knots your stomach. “Oh, force, a week? But, my master needs me,” you protest.
When your eyes open again, both medics are fixing you with equally stern looks. “Your master needs you to be safe, and healthy,” says Coric, frowning, as he carefully attaches a pulse oximeter to one of your fingers.
“If you want to be back on the field as soon as possible, you will take this week of recovery. If you want to argue with me about it, I will make it longer. A week is the absolute minimum,” Kix says, arms folded across his chest, wearing his signature “i’m the chief medical officer, you have no authority here,” expression.
You visibly deflate, reminding yourself that you pick and choose your battles, and picking and choosing a battle with two medics who are very competent at dealing with very stubborn Jedi would be a very stupid idea.
You can’t help yourself, and in spite of the fact that you shouldn’t, you stare as Kix preps your wrist for an IV line.
Sensing you’re mounting anxiety as your eyes nervously flit around, watching Kix’s Every move, Coric gently takes your other hand, squeezing when your eyes don’t immediately look at him. When you finally tear your eyes away from what Kix is doing, Coric is wearing a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Vod’ika, who taught you how to curse in Mandoa?” he asks, raising a curious brow.
You only scoff, rolling your eyes. “Kix already tried to find out. What makes you think that I’m going to tell that secret to you?”
“I’ve already got my suspicions. My moneys on Echo or Fives.” he gives you a wounded look, “I thought you would tell me, because I’m obviously your favourite.”
Kix uses this conversation to quickly insert the IV into a vein on your wrist. Reacting to the small pinch, your fingers instinctively tighten around Coric’s hand, squeezing it tightly.
“You’re definitely my favourite now,” you grumble, giving Kix a sidelong glare.
He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vod, i’m going to run the medication through the line now. It will act quickly, and when you wake up, this will be all done with.”
You nod, biting your lip nervously. Coric notices, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey, kid, I know you’ve heard Kix say kaysh mirsh solus all the time. Do you know what it means?”
You look at him with curiosity, shaking your head.
“Well, essentially it means they are stupid or foolish. But, the literal translation is even more direct .” Coric gives you a conspiratorial smile.
“What is it?” You ask as he leans forward.
“The literal translation means their braincell is lonely,” he says, completely serious.
You feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips and a surprised laugh falls from them.
You feel the medication beginning to enter your system, but you’re so busy laughing that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You better not be bullshitting me,” you threaten,“or I...” you let out a yawn.
“I swear to the force, I,” your eyes begin to flutter and you yawn again, shrugging.
“I’ll think about it later,” you mumble sleepily, before promptly passing out, smile still lighting up your face.
*
Your leg hurts.
That’s the first thing you become aware of as Kix is gently encouraging you to open your eyes.
“Come on, adika, open your eyes for me,” he says softly, fingers gently brushing against your cheek to bring you back to awareness.
“But it hurts, and I wanna go back to sleep,” you wine, blinking sleepily up at him.
“Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he soothes, fingers gently caressing your forehead in an apology. “I know it hurts, and you can go back to sleep soon, I promise,”
He glances at something that you can’t see, giving a small nod,“Vitals look good, the anaesthesia is wearing off nicely, and it doesn’t appear to have affected them too much. Let’s up that IV dosage,” Kix speaks to Coric, who moves to adjust your IV out of your eyeline.
Your leg throbs, and you let out a stifled whimper, hand reaching down, trying to at least find the source of your pain when Kix catches it in his, gently stalling your movements. “Let’s leave that alone for now, vod’ika. Coric is just increasing your pain med intake, that will make it better. Then you can sleep,”
At the continued expression of pain on your face, he lets go of your hand, fingers gently playing with your hair as he instructs, “nice and easy, adika, deep breath‘s for me, everything’s okay.”
You don’t believe him at first, but slowly, things become okay. The pain quickly fades and dulls , breathing becomes easier, and your eyes begin to flutter. All the while, Kix continues holding his vigil at your bedside, fingers continuing to gently run through your hair until you fall into a natural sleep.
*
When you properly wake up next, the first thing you notice is that your leg doesn’t hurt anymore.
Whatever pain meds Kix has got you hooked up to are very effective, and your lips pull into a relieved smile.
The second thing you notice, when you glance around to get your bearings, is the face of your very concerned captain, Rex, at your bedside. You blink slowly, yawning. Although the anaesthetic has worn off, the pain meds still have you feeling like you’re in a fog, and your brain is working pretty slowly.
“When did you get here?” you ask, confused.
“I came straight here after you never reported to the bridge for today’s debriefing. The general said that you would be back today, and it’s unlike you to miss or forget about meetings,” he explains, looking at you, relieved to see you awake, but a flicker of concern still lingering in his eyes.
“Osik, sorry, Rex, I got myself into a bit of a bind over here,” you gesture to the IV that you’re hooked up to, chuckling a little.
“So I heard, don’t worry about it, kid. There wasn’t much to report, anyways.” His head tilts, and he raises a questioning eyebrow.“Who taught you how to curse in Mandoa, vod’ika?” he asks, keeping his voice light.
If you weren’t under the influence of pretty heavy duty pain medication‘s, you would have restraint, you would have thought before you opened your mouth. But for Rex, it was his lucky day.
you smirk, “good old Hardcase taught me everything I know,” you say with pride, smiling fondly at the memory.
Rex carefully files that information away so that he can scold Hardcase for that once he leaves. But he carefully keeps his face neutral.
His face grows serious. “Kix told me about all the medical appointments you’ve missed and the injuries that you’ve been covering up,” his voice is stern, every bit the commanding officer that he is in front of the troops. It makes you nervous, and you swallow, looking away from him.
“I swear to the force, if you ever pull something like that again, I will find out about it, and I’ll drag you to the medbay myself, even if it means chasing you around the ship and stunning you if I have to. do you realize how much danger you were in? How much danger you put others in? That was extremely reckless of you, commander. I’m very disappointed in your actions, and it will not happen again, do you understand?”
Your hazy memory recalls the conversation you had with Kix earlier, about this very thing, and for some reason, it hits even harder seeing the disappointment, worry and concern etched on the face of the normally composed captain.
Without prompting, you find yourself bursting into tears.
Later, you’ll blame the pain meds on your inability to keep a grip on your emotions. But right now, all you can do is think about the people, the brothers, you could have hurt, the things that could’ve happened because of you, and the tears just fall down your face, streaming from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, into your ears, dampening your hair.
.“I I’m sorry Captain I I didn’t I,” you gasp out, trying to explain, but your brain is still foggy, only clinging onto the hazy images of loss and pain due to your inability to act fast enough.
There’s a reason why people are convinced that Kix has eyes on the back of his head. Working as the highest ranking medic in the 501st has trained him to be hyper observant of all of his patients, even if he isn’t at their bedside.
So, even though he’s been taking the time to update your file on a datapad, unbeknownst to either you or Rex, he’s also been watching you like a hawk, and the minute you begin to show that you’re overwhelmed, he’s swooping in on the two of you, protective mother hen mode fully activated by the tears falling down your cheeks.
He steps in front of you, broad shoulders immediately blocking your view of your commanding officer. “Captain,” he says, and his voice is still respectful, but there’s a hard edge beneath it, something stern that you haven’t heard before, even during the worst of him lecturing you.
“You are causing undue stress to my patient, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” he continues, physically ushering Rex to the door.
More quietly, out of your earshot, he says,“I have already harshly reprimanded the commander. Trust me, this experience will ensure that the lesson will not be forgotten. Now, if you want to be of use, get the general and bring him to me, please. I need to speak with him. Between you and me, Rex, I’m blaming this ordeal on him.”
Rex begins to make an objection, but Kix is already turning away, folding his arms. “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of council meetings. His Padawan is more important,” he shoots back, before quickly moving back to your side, all of his hard lines instantly fading at the sight of your tear streaked face.
He’s all gentleness and soft reassurances uttered as he cups your face, wiping away your tears. When you struggle into a sitting position, falling against his chest as your arms clumsily reach for him, his arms easily pull you close to him and you sob, trying to explain.
“Kix, I, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted to hurt anyone,” you whisper, clutching at him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, wanting to disappear, feeling his body shift, one hand splayed out, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, the other coming up to cradle your head, holding you against his warmth, sheltering you.
“Oh, adika, shh, I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, vod’ika, nothing happened,” he coos, tightening his arms around you. Lips press against your hair briefly, and you continue to cry, letting your emotions run their course as he cradles you to him, gently rocking you back-and-forth, as if you were a much smaller child.
In this moment, you certainly feel like you are, and it’s comforting, the way he holds and settles you against him , making gentle shushing noises and speaking in low, soothing tones, the words eventually losing their meaning as sleep, yet again, gently pulls at your consciousness.
The last thing you’re aware of is him gently guiding you to lie back down, another medic, you think it’s Coric, passing him a freshly warmed blanket that he tucks around you, and a hand gently brushing through your hair as you drift back to sleep, your storm settled and calmed by his words and his presence.
*
Anakin Skywalker had been in meetings with the Jedi high Council all day, was running on his 3rd cup of caff, and still found himself stifling a yawn every five minutes. So, when Rex silently slipped into the room, politely interrupting the meeting to request that Anakin report to the medbay, he instinctively rolled his eyes, grumbling that he would go later.
But when Rex stated that this wasn’t actually about him, and was in regards to his Padawan, Anakin was out of his seat in an instant, hastily making his excuses to the council before leaving the room, legs carrying him to the medbay faster than he ever had moved there before.
He doesn’t even stop to look as behind him, Rex calls to a group of troopers in a booming voice, “Hardcase, get Over here right now, you di’kut, I need to talk to you regarding professionalism when it comes to working with young Padawan’s .”
When he’s escorted into a cubicle, his eyes grow wide with alarm at the sight of you, peacefully asleep, but your face looks exhausted and worn out. You’re hooked up to an IV and monitors, there’s a thick bandage that’s been secured to the bottom half of your right leg.
Kix keeps his voice low and quiet, so as not to disturb you, but he fixes your master with a hard look as he takes him through an overview of your current health status.
“Iron deficiency anemia, burns, a dislocated shoulder, a blaster wound that had to be surgically operated on due to an untreated infection that had grown quite severe and needed to be manually removed, as well as several muscle strains and bruised ribs that can be healed with proper rest.”
His mouth falls open at the growing list, but Kix only folds his arms, continuing to speak. “General, sir, your Padawan looks to you with the highest regard, and you lead the way by example. All of these issues could have been caught much earlier and treated without having to deal with all this,” he gestures at everything you’re hooked up to.
“This behaviour was learned, and when I pressed, I found that at the root of the problem was fear of disappointing you and letting you down,” he waits for these words to sink in, and when they do, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general who is known for his strength and recklessness on the field, hangs his head with shame, eyes finding the floor and refusing to look at Kix directly.
His meaning is clear, you are his Padawan, and as your master, it’s his responsibility to set a good example for you, and in this regard, watching pain medication flow through the IV line attached to your wrist, he knows he has failed to do so.
“So, just maybe, the next time you decide that are mandatory medical checks are optional and you can manage on your own, maybe just, consider this,” Kix gestures to you, still deeply asleep.
Before your master can respond, not that he really has any words to do so, Kix turns on his heel, quickly exiting the room before he can be reprimanded for speaking to his superior that way, not that he really cares, anyway.
If he had stayed, though, he would have seen Anakin tentatively move to your side, gently sitting on the edge of your bed as he strokes back your hair and adjusts the blankets that are tucked around you, properly shamefaced as he looks down at you and says in a voice that is soft and rarely heard coming out of him, “I’m sorry, kiddo, this one’s on me.”
*
“And this,” says Kix, quickly injecting the third and final mandatory vaccination into your arm, “is your ticket out of here.”
The week of recovery has come and gone, And you have finally been cleared to head back onto the field, as long as you continue to follow a regimen of oral antibiotics for the next week, and, more excitingly in your opinion, get out of the medbay.
“There you go, you did it,” Fives, who’s been sitting across from you, happily agreeing to be your emotional support/cheerleader, ready with a damp cloth if you need it, does a little celebratory dance that makes you laugh, even as Kix, sensing that you’re feeling unsteady, gets you to lay down.
Fives gently places the cool cloth against your skin, and it’s enough to ground you, pulling you back from the edge.
“That’s it, Vod’ika, well done, you did great,” Kix says encouragingly, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze. “Now, wait 15 minutes, and as long as you’re feeling back to normal, you can get out of here,” he smiles down at you, patting your head affectionately before moving out of the cubicle.
As soon as he’s gone, Fives liens in conspiratorially, face lighting up with mischievousness sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, kid, I bet you 10 credits that I could easily sneak you out right now and we could make this 15 minutes go a lot faster,” he grins.
In spite of the fact that you smile back at him and laugh lightly, you give your head a small shake and throw a cautious look over your shoulder.
“Are you kidding? I’ve been here for a whole week, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that Kix and Coric do, in fact, have eyes in the back of their heads. We wouldn’t even make it out of the door.”
It’s true, you’ve seen several different troopers trying to carefully sneak out of the medbay when they think that no one is watching.
What you’ve learned, though, is that the medics of Torrent Company are always watching. Nothing gets past their keen eyes or ears, and no one successfully sneaks out undetected.
You grimace, “besides, I’ve just gotten off of Kix’s bad side, and I have no desire to go back there.”
“So,” Fives says, resignedly coming to sit on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “We’re waiting the 15 minutes?”
You carefully sit up, giving him a nod and a decisive look as you lean your head against his shoulder..
“Yes, Fives,” you affirm, letting out a small sigh of your own. “We are waiting the 15 minutes.”
*************************
thank you so much for reading. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated here.are always appreciated here.
Mandoa translations.
Kaysh mirsh solus, they are stupid/foolish.
Ori’vod: Big Brother (in this instance) can also be used as big sister or big sibling.
Ni ceta: i’m sorry.
Vod: Brother/ sister/ sibling.
Adika: little one.
Vod’ika: Little sister, little brother, or little sibling
Haar’chak: damm it.
Di’kut: Fool (literal translation is underwear forgeter) which kills me.
Osi’yaim: shithead.
Osik: shit.
#star wars x reader#kix x reader#platonic#reader insert#gn reader#padawan reader#fives x reader#anakin x reader#rex x reader#kix#clone medic kix#arc trooper fives#captain rex#Anakin Skywalker#the clone wars fanfiction#platonic imagine#tcw fanfiction#star wars fanfiction
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By my side
Characters: Kelly Severide x Platonic!Reader, Matt Casey x Platonic!Reader, Sylvie Brett x Platonic!Reader
Warnings: Toxic men, abuse, protective firefighters.
Summary: You should've been better but at least your family is by your side.
A/N: For the sake of this, there'll be two ambulances which means two PIC's.
This has been sitting in my drafts for months unfinished and I suddenly decided to finish it after work on the train. Also couldn't be asked to proofread so sorry for any mistakes!! And I know this aesthetic thing sucks but it's been a long day and I'm tired, so sorry again. 😅😅
Being a paramedic had always been your dream.
Growing up in a first responder household: firefighter dad and patrol officer mum, paramedics were a constant presence around them. So, it was only natural that was were you gravitated towards.
Following this, working at firehouse 51 was a given since that was where your father was a Captain at till he became battalion chief and moved to another house.
Your family had history in this house, making it somewhat sacred ground for anyone who shared your family's surname.
Yes, there had been times when you had to prove your worth and that you weren't a nepo baby but your family in everything but blood were always somehow five steps ahead of you.
So it only made sense that when you started to skip going to Molly's and skimping on details about what you did during your day offs, that they were concerned and confused to say the least.
Six months later, after nearly holding an intervention, you introduced everyone to your boyfriend Mason.
It was safe to say, everyone had their suspicions, even after being together for a year. All of which you excused, diverting and switching blame.
*****
You thought that you were finally happy with how everything in your life was settling but all of a sudden, fate decided that stability wasn't necessary for you.
Shouting and constant arguing should've been the first sign, blaring as bright as the sun, warning and shouting at you to break it off before reaching the one year mark but you briskly ignored it and marched on.
Then, the drinking problems, anger problems and impatience were made alight when you started living together. (he invited you to move in with him when celebrating one year together)
You found yourself not liking the man he started becoming the longer you were together. It irked you to no end and you constantly were skittish around him, finding it harder to have a civil conversation with him the more time passed.
It seemed that your feelings somehow transferred themselves over to your work life because you were suddenly snapping at the stand-in paramedic for Sylvie when she was sick for a petty reason.
The PIC in you forced you to immediately apologise before Kelly dragged you into his office, Matt following without a word.
Naturally, the three of you including Sylvie had a bond of 'commanding officers' as you were all in charge in some degree and over several years, the work relationship blossomed and the four of you were as thick as thieves.
It also helped that Matt and Kelly worked with your father and knew you from their pre-firefighter and your pre-paramedic days.
Under their concern filled gazes, you found yourself crumbling, eyes all of a sudden filled with tears from the stress of it all.
They couldn't help but confirm their fears which you tried to deny incessantly, for some reason defending Jason and explaining that this could all be fixed and everything would be back to normal in no time.
If only you didn't.
*****
Over the past year, everyone found you changing.
The stern but loving PIC you once were had become but a memory. It was as though you were a shell of your past self, something of which you agreed with.
Mason was draining the life out of you and the only time you weren't losing yourself to him was during your 24 hour shifts before being surrounded by him for the next 48.
You tried your best to leave, you really did but at some point in your now two year relationship, things took an abrupt turn and Mason had become this toxic, controlling man who has a newfound urge to resort to violence when you were being your true self.
Being PIC meant you had an amount of power under your title and after many years of work, you had perfected your nature. It's why you and Sylvie were so good at what you did; you used force when necessary and compassion was always on hand.
Over the course of the past year, you found yourself on the end of many interventions held by Matt, Kelly and Sylvie.
With all the reasons in the world, they argued and argued with you, laying out the easiest ways to break you free. They were as desperate as you were at this point to get you to break up with Jason. They missed and needed the old you back.
Unbeknownst to you, they schemed behind your back, trying and failing to convince you to leave Mason for good but you found yourself pathetically laughing at them before going home to endure hell.
You struggled to understand your behaviour. Abuse to this degree was something you never you experience firsthand and you would never wish it upon your worst enemies.
On sleepless nights, you constantly contemplated why you wouldn't leave. You wanted to, you really did but then you could hear him whisper in your ear and you remained firmly glued to his side.
So badly did you want to rip your arm out his earth shattering grip and run back home, to the safety of love and familiarity.
Your final decision was set in stone when he finally made his mark a month ago, fingertips bruised into your wrist when he wouldn't let you leave his car in front of the firehouse.
"Alright then, thank you for dropping me off. I'll see you tomorrow." You said, pressing your lips together in a tight smile, hand reaching for the door handle while the other fiddled with the handle of your tote bag.
He replied with something, you weren't too sure because you were already out the car, closing the door with practised precision and gentleness.
Your expressionless face brightened at the sight of your colleagues/friends/basically siblings at this point. The firehouse and all its inhabitants were truly your saving grace and without it, you weren't too sure where you would be.
Just as you were going to walk up the apron to meet them halfway, you were being pulled back by a random force. It was so sudden that you dropped your bag, your things spilling out as they rolled away.
You yelped, attracting the attention of those who weren't previously paying attention to your arrival in their mortal enemies car.
Scrunching your eyebrows, you turned to Mason in confusion, your eyes following the hand gripping your wrist to his face you were once infatuated with.
"What the hell Mason?!" You said with gritted teeth, trying to escape but he wouldn't let go. "Stop, your making a scene."
Before he could reply, several shouts came from behind you and before you knew it, you were being pulled into comforting arms as big and bulky men dealt with Mason.
"Oh Y/N." Sylvie's heart melted for you while it ignited in flames because of Mason. With your bag in one of her hands, she somehow collected all of your things, she brought you into her arms and hugged you tighter than a koala.
"Let me see your hand." She muttered under her breath, unbothered by the fuming men huddling around you in a protective barrier, on guard as they watched Matt and Kelly deal with Mason on the street.
She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth at the finger shaped bruise on your wrist, you copying her when she lightly touched it. Despite her angelic exterior, you saw a red glint flash across her eyes, one you rarely saw but had seen several times before on the rare occasion.
If this was her reaction, then you were dreading Matt and Kelly's.
And your feelings were very much justified because as soon as they sent Mason away, you found yourself being subject to a very strong worded conversation.
They played the role of overprotective brothers perfectly. With the help of detectives who you were lucky to call good friends, your plan was set in stone and would take a week to fully come together.
Despite how meticulously everything was planned, you somehow ended up in the emergency room. Surrounded by doctors and nurses you recognised, you felt their sympathy and felt nearly emotional with the care that greeted you.
Thanking Maggie, you smiled and watch the charge nurse leave but you weren't alone for even a minute before three certain people came barging in.
With wide eyes, they drank in your slouched figure.
Matt looked alarmed, Kelly disgruntled and Sylvie on the edge of a breakdown.
You choked out a watery laugh, harshly swallowing back tears as you shook your head and blinked repeatedly. Releasing a shaky breath, you felt your chest tighten as your oxygen was constricted before it was all treated when enveloped in the loving arms of your 'siblings'.
Had it not been for your intense emotional state, you would've barked out in laughter at the anger displayed by Kelly who imitated a caged lion, Matt who spewed words Hank Voight would find offensive and Sylvie who played parts of a mother comforting their daughter but also Satan prepared to burn and punish sinners.
Your pain was muted by their presence alone. With their constant love and never-ending companionship by your side, you were sure to heal.
#one chicago x reader#one chicago imagine#onechicago#chicago fire x reader#chicago fire#platonic imagine#platonic love#x reader#kelly severide x reader#matt casey x reader#sylvie brett x reader
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➤ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ
[𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 ‘𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭’ 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲/𝐆𝐍!𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]
Synopsis: Sergeant [Y/Name] ‘Rico’ [L/Name] of the Los Vaqueros was found on the bank of the river that runs through Las Almas when they were on the brink of death, little did the Colonel know of their history— and how deep and rich it runs
C/W: Canon typical violence, fighting, blood and death, brief mentions of torture, canon inaccuracies (in regards to Simon’s backstory involving Roba), depictions of body trauma and death, google translated Spanish
A/N: Salutations and good tidings! I’ve wanted to create a blog for all my fixations for a long time but it was the MW3 trailer that finally kicked my ass into gear to do it! I hope you enjoy! <3
－
Ghost considered himself to be a man with little —if not nonexistent at all— emotion, he was violent and calculated and he was built from the darkness that creeps around corners and settles in the weakest parts of one’s mind.
He wouldn’t think of himself as one who’d have emotional attachments on any sort, not since his mother, brother and nephew. Not since he’d lost that kid, that kid from Roba’s cartel that stitched up his wounds, fed him, medicated him properly and cared for him as best they could… that kid that he could very well and truly call his own. [Y/Name].
It’d been five years exactly, not a single second unaccounted for since that day they’d gone over the cliffside at the expense of his hesitance. But he’d had good reason to be hesitant at the time.. at least that’s what the reasonable part of him told himself to quell the guilt that weighed heavy on his heart.
Roba had escaped them both and they joined together to finally end him once and for all, Simon trusting of their presence after the countless times [Y/Name] had aided him when he was under Roba’s control. Shockingly, they had bonded.. and bonds built in the blood of trauma are the strongest bonds of all.
See, [Y/Name] had been part of Roba’s cartel since they were eleven years old. It’d been their birthday, which instead of having cake and ice cream, presents and family and friends to celebrate— their birthday was and will always be tarnished by the blood of their mother.
Stabbed through the neck with a steak knife wielded by their father, the man in an outrage as alcohol poisoned his mind and lit his anger into a ferocious uproar. Enough of an emotional reaction to murder their mother where she stood protective and firm in front of them.
[Y/Name] reacted instinctively, the desperation to survive igniting an uproar to light beneath their skin. Blood lit ablaze as it ran like acid through their veins, they lunged their father and tackled him to the ground. Utilizing that burn to ignite a strength in their body they disarmed him and turned the weapon on murderer instead. Roaring angrily as they willed all their pent up emotions at his abuse and neglect to guide their hand to wildly stab his neck and face over and over again.
And [Y/Name] could still feel the sickening warmth of their mother’s blood splattering their face when the tip of the knife punctured through her nape. Now even thicker and heavier as their father’s blood erupted from the knife wounds they had inflicted.
And every single day of their birthday since, they lock themselves away and scrub wildly at their face. Furious attempts to be rid of the phantom weight of the viscous matter on their face— the tingle of droplets gliding down their chin.
But no matter how hard they tried.. they’d always see the same blood soaked face looking back at them when they lifted their head to eye the mirror before them.
Ghost wasn’t aware of this of course, because he didn’t even know they were still alive. He was sure the bullet Roba had fired at them was an instant kill, because they had slumped and fallen backwards over the cliffside Roba’s mansion in Las Almas oversaw.
He’d only had the opportunity to shoot them because Simon couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger minutes prior when [Y/Name] had Roba pinned to their body. It was a perfectly clean shot.. but they were in the way. And Simon had refused to be the cause of their death, outright refused to be the reason he’d lost the final piece of normalcy he had. His only family.
But it seemed whatever higher power there was had intended to take [Y/Name] away from him one way or another. Because in his hesitance you had seen fear and when they asked if he could do it Roba seized the opportunity that Simon’s brief moment of reluctance opened up. Thrashed out of their hold, spun around and shut them right through the chest.
Simon doesn’t remember the cry he wailed out when their body slumped before falling backwards and over the cliffside. He remembers firing three bullets at the back of Roba’s head and rushing the cliff’s sheer edge to see if he could find any semblance of them. But the heavy rainfall and darkened overcast sky made it nearly impossible… and he willed himself to make the journey back home. To England. Without [Y/Name]
“I’ve always wanted to go to England, there’s so many fascinating land marks and beautiful places there.”
“Stick with me through this last one kid and I’ll take ya there.”
“Really?!”
“Promise. Ya with me?”
“To the end of the line Si. I’d follow you anywhere.”
Ghost grit his teeth hard, grinding them together and tightening up his jaw at the abrupt eruption of longing that sat heavy in his stomach. Longing for his kid. Brought upon him by the memory of the conversation he had shared with them the night before he lost them at Roba’s mansion. And the memory itself ignited in his head at the location he was being flown to now.
Las Almas. The same Las Almas that grounds Roba’s mansion on the outskirts. The mansion that he burned to the fucking ground.
“Alright, L.T?”
Ghost spared the Scot at his side a single look out of the corner of his eye, huffed in acknowledgment of his question then grunted out his affirmation.
Soap pressed his lips together at Ghost’s blunt and relatively nonexistent reply, though he wasn’t entirely too shocked by it he still found the single grumble answer a bit off putting all the same.
“Ever been to Las Almas before?” He tried again, this time hoping for more than a fucking grunt—
“Once.”
—not exactly better but not worse either.
“Yeah? When?”
“Mind your own Sergeant. Fuckin’ ‘ell.”
Before Soap could say anything further the heli landed and Ghost thanked the gods above for the momentary reprieve from the pestering Scot. And they both stood when the platform lowered to the ground, on the tarmac standing in front of an armored vehicle stood a tall man.
They walked down the platform to introduce themselves.
“Alejandro!” Soap greeted.
“Sergeant MacTavish!”
“Call me Soap!”
Alejandro nodded before he was turning to the tall Brit stood beside Soap.
“Lieutenant. Laswell says they call you Ghost.”
“Actually I believe he prefers to be—“
“That’ll do!”
Soap puckered his lips at the dismissive shout of Ghost’s scold and then they were both giving Alejandro their full attention again. They followed in step as he turned and began to walk away.
“I’ve never been to Mexico,” Soap shouted over the still loud and prominent whir of helicopter blades powering down.
“This isn’t Mexico,” Ale responded. “This is Las Almas.”
Ghost quelled down the rising feeling of guilt and despair in his stomach, swallowing it when it slithered up his chest to choke him with it’s significance. When he thought he’d manage a sentence without cracking he spoke, “Shepherd’s contractors are inbound to reinforce. They’re bringing hardware, they’ll need room.”
“My base is your base.”
“Good. Where’s Hassan?”
“Cartel safe-house. Ten klicks from here. Get in.” Alejandro replied, having led the two to an armored vehicle at the front of the line and stepped to the passenger side as Ghost and Soap moved to the doors in the back.
Ghost and Soap opened their doors on either side of the vehicle respectively and were thrown off by the presence of a soldier already inside. They got over it quickly and climbed into the car, shutting the doors behind them and then staring at the soldier in between them.
Who had yet to greet them.. or even move.
Ghost couldn’t stop staring. He felt a twinge in his chest, like a brief yet meaningful pull to the soldier sat beside him and he huffed in confusion at the tug. Then huffed in annoyance at it’s persistence. It’s not like he knew them… right?
When they looked up Alejandro was climbing into the passenger’s seat and there was a man already sat behind the wheel. The Colonel took the liberty to introduce the driver and the soldier sat between them.
“My second in command; Rodolfo Parra, and my most trusted and loyal; Sergeant Rico.”
“Just Rico?”
“It’s their callsign hermano.. what they prefer to go by at all times.” Rudy and Alejandro looked into the rearview mirror, and found Rico hadn’t moved an inch. Not a twitch of a muscle or even a ruffle of their gear.
And they quirked one sided smirks at the way they were presenting themself, both of them having a single thought regarding their beloved Rico. Dramatic lil’ shit.
“Estoy asustado de los fantasmas.” Rudy joked as he looked away from the sergeant in the back and to Alejandro who grinned at him before turning in his seat to look at Soap. Soap, who he could see occasionally stealing glances at the sergeant sat next to him. Ghost seemed to be curious about them too, not hiding his brief glances well.. if at all.
“Do you know Spanish?”
“No.”
“You will.”
—
A/N: I think this is a nice little introduction to the character, at least that’s what I like to think of this fic as! Hope you enjoyed! The plan was just to introduce Rico, I’m not sure if I really want to write out the campaign from this point forward or not! We’ll see how this does and decide then! Though I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t get much traction, this blog is new and still very small so.. but if you did find it I hope you liked it!
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw22#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#alejandro vargas#rodolfo parra#ghost x reader#soap x reader#alejandro x reader#rudy x reader#x platonic!reader#platonic reader#platonic imagine#platonic relationships#cod x platonic reader
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ope there goes gravity
a/n: snap back to reality, ope there goes gravity
When I tell you I've wanted to re-write this scene yet it's Bridgerton!sis who falls off since 2021
summary: Y/N Bridgerton was not in the gardens at the Trowbridge Ball. She had no idea of what transpired. Yet, somehow, she ends up in the middle of a duel, in an empty park, at dawn. And it's all Daphne's fault.
Bridgerton House was quiet.
Most of the staff had gone to bed - only Humboldt and Mrs Wilson remained awake, awaiting the return of those in attendance at the Trowbridge Ball.
Y/N Bridgerton - the sixth youngest in the Bridgerton family - was fast asleep in her bed, blankets tucked around her, candle gently flickering in the draft.
As much as she longed for the days when she could spend more time with her elder brothers and dance the night away, she was never a night owl. Y/N was almost always in bed before nine and asleep by eleven.
Everything was quiet in Bridgerton House. Except for a gentle yet frantic knocking on Y/N's bedroom door. It was just loud enough for the young girl to hear and she blearily blinked awake, half wondering if something miraculous had happened at the ball that Daphne simply could not wait to tell her about.
"Yes, I'm coming," Y/N muttered, sliding out of bed and grabbing her shawl. She wrapped her shawl around her as she opened her bedroom door, staring in surprise at the dishevelled state of her eldest sister.
"Daff, what -"
"Anthony is to duel Simon at dawn," Daphne announced, marching into Y/N's bedroom.
Y/N blinked, slowly processing the information. "Pardon me, what?"
Daphne sighed, running a shaking hand through her messy hair. "I kissed Simon."
"You kissed Simon?!"
"Well, I kissed him... and then his hands may have strayed away from where is socially acceptable."
Y/N looked at her sister, frowning ever so slightly. She was certain she knew what Daphne was alluding to - Y/N had talked with her lady's maid about sex and had learnt more than her mother would ever tell her.
"Daff did he..."
"No! Lord, no. I wanted it and it was entirely heat of the moment in the gardens -"
"How does this lead to Anthony duelling the Duke?"
"He found us. In the gardens. And he saw my... breast."
Y/N's mouth fell open. She stared in shock at her sister - the sister who had always followed society's rules, who had always been practically perfect.
"I know, it is bad -"
Y/N snorted, a bubble of laughter escaping her lips. Daphne instantly fell silently, glaring at her.
"Sorry," Y/N said, pressing her hand to her mouth. "I know it's not funny. I just... I am not quite sure how else to react."
"I have made a complete mess of things," Daphne moaned, sitting down on Y/N's bed with a dramatic flop. "I am in such a tangle, Y/N."
"Can I ask you something?" Daphne nodded. "Why did you come to me?" At her sister's confused gaze, Y/N elaborated. "Well, Colin is downstairs, is he not? So, why come to me instead of him? He is probably of more help."
"But he does not understand, fully, the extent of the situation." Daphne inhaled deeply, laying her hand's palm up in her lap. "I was caught, by my oldest brother, in a compromising position. He is now challenging the Duke of Hastings to a duel - a duel that will likely end with one person dead and the other fleeing the country. It will forever ruin two families and their lives. I cannot let that happen."
"Did anyone see you? In the gardens, I mean."
Daphne opened her mouth to immediately answer but found herself pausing. "Cressida. Oh, god, Cressida saw."
"What?"
"She made a snide comment, one that I brushed aside because Simon had just rejected me and a duel had been announced, but she said something about the gardens."
"Daphne, if Cressida saw, no matter the outcome of this duel, the ton will still find out."
"What do we do?" Daphne asked, looking at her younger sister with such helplessness, that Y/N's heart ached.
Y/N walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out a dark blue riding habit, throwing it onto the bed. "We get changed," she said, undoing her hair from its braids, "and we go downstairs and demand Colin takes us to where the duel is to take place."
"You are coming too?"
"Of course," Y/N said as if Daphne had just asked the stupidest question in the world, "I would never leave my sister to stop a duel herself."
Daphne stood up from the bed and flung herself at Y/N, hugging her tightly. "Thank you," she said, sniffing quietly.
"Come on, we can hug later," Y/N told her, giving her a tight squeeze.
Colin, it turned out, was easily manipulated once told the severity of the situation. Even though he tried to stop Y/N from coming - because, really, did he have to babysit two sisters? - Daphne put her foot down and insisted she came for backup.
What sort of backup a seventenn-year-old girl was going to provide against two grown men and two guns, Y/N wasn't entirely sure. She was simply glad to be involved in the drama for once.
In the early morning, just as the sun began its ascent into the sky, the three Bridgerton's mounted their respective horses and took off for Hyde Park. Daphne urged her horse ahead of everyone's, galloping through the streets.
Y/N knew her sister was blinded by panic and anger. It wasn't hard for her, as a woman, to understand why. No matter what happened in the next few hours, Daphne's life would be changed forever.
As the sun began to rise - just peeking over the edge of the fields - Daphne was leaving Colin behind. They'd entered Hyde Park - which was thankfully empty - and Y/N was struggling to catch her sister up.
In the far distance, she could see five figures standing around a copse of trees - two were slowly walking away from one another.
Daphne, somehow, urged her horse to go even faster.
"Daphne!" Y/N yelled, her words swept away by the wind rushing past her.
Her sister was about to ride straight into the middle of a duel. Y/N wasn't quite sure what she was hoping to achieve - Daphne would end up either getting shot at or end up falling off her horse.
To be fair, Y/N wasn't entirely honest as to what she herself was hoping to achieve by catching up to Daphne. She couldn't simply yank Daphne's horse to a halt and force her to walk into the duel.
They'd almost reached the copse of trees. Y/N could see Simon and Anthony slowly beginning to turn to face one another. Daphne was riding straight between the two trees and Y/N urged her horse to go even faster.
Her horse, seeming to notice her urgency and her fear, pushed itself even harder, eating up the ground beneath it.
Daphne rode into the middle of the duel, yanking her horse up. "Stop!"
Someone fired their gun, the sound echoing out across the empty fields.
Y/N was not sure what happened next. Because one minute she was yanking her horse to a sharp stop, trying to avoid running into Daphne, and the next she was falling, the world spinning and turning around her.
Anthony had Daphne a second too late. He pressed the trigger, firing his bullet at Hastings. His eyes widened as Daphne rode through the duel, her horse skidding to an abrupt halt on the other side. Y/N, however, in an attempt to not ride into her sister, yanked her horse to a stop in the middle of the duel,
As Anthony's gun fired and the sound cracked out through the silent morning.
Horses neighed, rearing up in fear. Anthony watched as his younger sister - the one he'd always had a soft spot for - lost her balance and was de-saddled by her horse.
"Y/N!" Anthony yelled, his eyes widening in absolute horror as his sister fell, her head smacking the solid ground.
He ran towards his sister, vaguely registering Simon catching Daphne's horse by its reins and helping her down. Anthony threw his pistol to the side, falling to his knees beside Y/N as Benedict sprinted over to them, joining Anthony at Y/N's side.
"Sister," Anthony said, his voice laced with panic as his hands roamed over her body, every worst-case scenario running through his head. "Hastings!" He yelled, glancing over his shoulder at the man. "Is she alright?"
"Fine, worry about her!" Daphne yelled back, answering for herself.
"Y/N?" Anthony murmured, leaning down, brushing her hair back from her face. "Sister?"
It felt as if an eternity passed as Anthony waited, watching his sister intently. He let out a gust of air in relief as his sister's eyes flickered open, her gaze foggy as she tried to work out where she was and why she was on the floor.
"Oh, thank God," Anthony said, leaning back.
Y/N sat up, brushing her hair back from her face. She looked up and over at her sister, who was watching with concern but looked in relatively one piece.
"Oh, you alright over there?" Y/N yelled, kneeling on the ground.
"You rode into the duel!" Daphne yelled back, marching over to her.
"I was trying to stop you from getting shot!"
"Clearly, I was fine!"
"Clearly!"
"Ladies!"
The two sisters turned their heads sharply to look at Anthony - who was staring at them both as if they were mad.
"Are you two done?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. They nodded. "Good. Now, what the hell were you thinking?"
"I could not let you kill a man," Daphne said, looking at her brother. "Not when it would cause more harm than good."
"Why did you bring Y/N?"
"I needed someone who would understand my side," Daphne explained. "Besides, we were not unchaperoned."
"What - Colin?!"
"What was I meant to do? They were going to come with or without me."
Anthony looked like he might combust. "Oh dear -"
"I need a moment with the Duke," Daphne said, talking over Anthony as he swore. "Please."
"Daphne, I cannot -"
As Anthony went off, Daphne cast her sister a desperate gaze. Y/N raised her eyebrows, questioning whether what Daphne as asking was strictly necessary. Daphne practically stamped her foot in reply and Y/N huffed.
Their entire silent conversation happened in under ten seconds. Anthony was mid-rant about Hastings and Y/N sighed.
"Oh, I feel really dizzy," Y/N said suddenly, trying to sound genuine.
Y/N stumbled back a step, her back hitting Anthony's chest. Knowing he was directly behind her, Y/N let her legs fold beneath her and Anthony scrambled to catch her.
Daphne gave Y/N the smallest smile before turning to face Simon, grabbing his wrist and pulling him aside.
"Sister, sister, what's wrong?" Anthony asked, his voice frantic.
Benedict knelt down next to Y/N and tilted his head slightly, completely unconvinced of her entire act. He was always able to read her like an open book.
"Sorry, I think I sat up too fast," Y/N replied, pushing herself into a sitting position, and patting Anthony's hand.
"Jesus Christ, Y/N," Anthony muttered, running a hand through his hair. He looked to his left, seeing Daphne talking to the Duke, a hand on his elbow. . "Daff - what are you doing?!"
Daphne turned to him, grimacing slightly. "TheDuke and I are to be married."
That shut Anthony up.
Y/N was desperately trying not to fall asleep on Colin. Her eyes were ever so heavy and it was getting hard to not close them. Colin glanced at his sister, nudging her foot with his.
"You can go for a nap," he said quietly, not wanting to interrupt their mother, who was mid-flow about wedding preparations.
"No, no, if I do mother will think it weird," Y/N replied. "I rarely nap unless ill."
"Or exhausted."
"Unless I have a reason to be exhausted."
"Just say you stayed up late talking to Daphne about the engagement."
"Which will then lead to her asking me why I acted as if I did not know this morning." Y/N yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. "I shall simply proclaim a headache once she has finished talking and go for a nap afterwards."
"It will be bedtime by then."
"Precisely my point."
Colin rolled his eyes, picking up a biscuit from the tray next to him. "It was incredibly brave what you did this morning."
"Oh, hardly."
"I do not see any of the Featheringtons running into the middle of a duel for their sibling."
"Because they do not like one another," Y/N countered. "I happen to be rather fond of our dear sister."
"Still. You did not have to get involved."
Y/N sighed softly. "What I do not think many men understand is how marriage affects not only the woman involved but the other women in her life. Should Daphne have not ended the duel engaged to the Duke, then myself and all our sisters would have been ruined. I went, to not only protect Daphne but to protect myself and my own future."
Colin looked deep in thought for a moment as he munched on his biscuit, chewing slowly. "Does not make you any less brave," he eventually replied, swallowing. "Knowing you needed to fight for yourself as well as your sister's."
Y/N raised her eyebrows in a swift movement. She slumped against the sofa, clasping her hands on her stomach and closing her eyes. "Somebody has to. Everyone else is too wrapped up in their own damn lives."
She kept her eyes shut after her statement, trying to get a power nap in whilst her mother nagged Daphne about flower arrangements. Colin didn't quite realise Y/N had completely fallen asleep until her head slumped onto his shoulder and he felt her curl up into his side, using him as a pillow.
Colin glanced down at her, trying not to move, the smallest of smiles on his face.
"Now, Y/N, dearest - Colin, is she asleep?"
Colin jumped slightly, startled by his mother's sudden appearance by his right shoulder. "Uh... yes."
"Why is she asleep? She said she slept well last night."
"Ah, well, that might be my fault," Colin lied, "I kept her up telling her all about the ball. She asked and I fear I went on a bit in my description."
Violet didn't look entirely convinced. To be honest, she had had a look of suspicion on her face since that morning - a look all of her elder children were trying to ignore.
"Alright, then. Maybe take her up to her bedroom if she is truly that tired, though, Colin - let her have a decent rest. Now, Daphne, your gown..."
Colin turned away from his mother and looked back down at Y/N - who was still snuggled up into his side. He didn't move. He simply shifted ever so slightly, picked up another biscuit, and bit into it, content to sit there for as long as he had a decent supply of biscuits.
#bridgerton#bridgerton sister#bridgerton!sis#anthony bridgerton#colin bridgerton#daphne bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton imagines#anthony x reader#colin x reader#platonic imagine#bridgerton platonic
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Family (Platonic)
This one is a bit long!!! Nimona was so good, and meant so much to me! Wanted to do this as soon as I saw the film and have finally completed it! Just a quick warning, story contains some mentions of self doubt over lgbt identity, some mentions of Suicidal Ideation, and I think that is all (if I have forgotten anything, please let me know!!!). All my love to my lgbt siblings with everything going on right now <333 you matter so damn much! And this film coming at a time like this (and even more so after I learnt about the author of the graphic novel!) is everything!
Also, all my love to the WGA and SAG-AFTRA, keep fighting the good fight!!! I wouldn’t be here writing this (or really any fanfic) without your incredible writing and work! <333
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Summary: Nimona and Y/N are not siblings by blood, but choice, friendship, and loyalty. They find that support and acceptance in each other; but, when they catch wind of a knight who is just has hated as them, they see an opportunity to find someone else to add to their family.
If you had parents, you didn’t know them.
You just remembered always being out in the streets, just about standing by.
You never stole, you just took whatever left others you either found, or were given out of sympathy.
Pity did get you a long way, you had to admit.
People felt sorry for you, but then did nothing else to help you.
While it hurt, it never really put a chip on your shoulder. There was nothing anything you could do anyway. You couldn’t fight. You didn’t have a lot of strength in you.
One time, a group of people decided to leverage that. People like you; left behind and given nothing but scraps. Instead of coming together, however, they saw you as a weak link; something to blame for their issues and lot in life.
Just when you thought that would be it for you, someone called out. The pain stopped, but even if it lingered. You weren’t hit again. Your hearing was fuzzy, eyesight blurry.
You blacked in and out a few times.
When you came to, you are on a couch. You hear someone humming. You sit up, slowly, and see a girl around your age cooking.
“Oh, hey!” She says, turning back to you with a smile on her face, “don’t worry about those guys,” she assures you, “I took care of them.”
She seems almost proud.
Still, you just feel good that they’re gone now.
“You can have some of this, if you want,” she says, gesturing to her food.
“I don’t…I don’t want to be a burden,” you say.
You hear a growl, and see a red tiger in front of you, baring it’s teeth, “who said that?” She demands.
“No one really. Just…just the vibe, I guess?”
You look down, subconsciously; the girl seems to notice this, only watching you as you scramble to find the words you need. Then —
“I’m sorry…for not – for not knowing anymore. Could use someone like you out there.”
You feel something on your leg. Looking down, you see a red cat, rubbing itself on your leg. It looks up at you, before jumping on the couch.
“It’s not your fault, kid,” the cat says, “we’ll find them.”
You stroke the cat again. You feel safe. Sure, it’s a talking cat, but the cat was a girl a minute ago. You’ve seen what the world can hold magic wise. You know different things exist. Some people thrown out for all sorts of things they can’t control; this is that for her.
“‘We’?” You echo back to her, as she changes back to her redheaded form, arms crossed with a smirk on her face.
“Hell yeah, us!” She says, arms now up in the air, “we can watch each others back! Like a –“ her eyes light up, “like a sidekick!”
Something in your eyes brighten; something in hers soften, slightly.
They both do that a bit more as your smile widens, “ok then, where do we start?”
“Well, how about names?” She says, but there’s excitement in her eyes, “I’m Nimona!” She says, holding her hand out.
“I’m…” you say, holding out your hand and then pausing, “oh…”
She seems to catch onto what you mean, “I have a bunch of lists of names if you want to look?” She offers.
You nod, eagerly, and she fetches it – throwing some other items over her shoulder while she looks. She presents it to you. It’s a massive scroll that unfurls, “take your pick!” She says, arms outstretched to it like a ‘ta-da’ like pose. She’s proud of it.
You do pick one, even if it takes a bit of time. Still, you find one that works for you:
Y/N.
“Had a feeling you’d like that one,” she says, “I like it!”
You smile again. She does too, even if hers looks a bit like a snarl in a way; seems she’s already thinking of the damage you’ll do together. For you though, it’s about not being alone anymore.
You do get up to trouble. A lot of trouble. You paint art on walls; you play pranks on the guards so you can get somewhere – or sometimes just for fun.
Nimona’s ability to shapeshift is so damn cool. Internally, she feels a spark of happiness she hasn’t felt in a long time at your genuine acceptance and awe of her ability.
She, in turn, helps you find yourself as well. Your style, clothing wise. She notes things that make you uncomfortable as well. Sometimes that leads to deep chats; like the one you have about your lack of care for anything to do with sex or romance, or gender norms.
All she has to say to that is, “metal. Norms are for losers, anyway. I mean, end of the day, you’re Y/N, and I’m Nimona. That’s all that matters.”
It doesn’t matter if it’s something small or major that changes identity wise, her words are always the same and always true.
Her loyalty to you is the same as yours is to hers. You’re always defending her – despite her not always needing it – and backing her up in fights.
You always assure her she has you. You see her moments of vulnerability. Where the mask sort of drops. She always appreciates it. As while she’s not like you in the way of comforting people, she tries to learn from your softness and comforting manners.
You’re all each other have. At least, for a while anyway. You see the news of the manhunt for a man who killed the queen. Someone almost as hated as you are.
Nimona looks to you, and you know what your best friend is thinking.
So, you track him down. She does the talking; though at one point Ballister does look at you and seem to start implying you’re a monster to, and says, “hey, don’t look at them. Look at me,” he complies as he sees you looking around his room. You’re a curious thing.
“What — um, who are…?”
She raises an eyebrow, “they,” she starts, “are Y/N. My best friend and partner in crime and all things evil,” she then leans forward, “and I’m Nimona.”
“Yes…but, what does that mean?” He asks, trying not to piss her off. In his mind, scared he’ll become one of her – he’s sure – many victims.
A smirk appears on her face as she answers, “whatever we want it to mean.”
“Right. Yes. Ok,” he says, “that’s understandable.”
He sees you fiddling with one of his spare arms, “please be careful with that!” He says in fear. You put it back carefully, backing away from it. Nimona raises an eyebrow, letting you handle this. She knows you’re tougher than you look. Don’t get her wrong, you look better now; both a bit more comfortable in your own skin, but also decently fed.
“What is that?” You ask.
“Oh…it’s one of my spares. Just an old prototype I guess, for this,” he says, gesturing to his arm.
“Hm,” you say, looking at it and then the old version, “it’s always nice to have a spare.”
“Like a sidekick!” Nimona says, adding it one to try and persuade the knight – or ex-knight you guessed.
“No, no! Those things do not match!”
“Oh, come on!” Nimona snaps at Ballister. You just watch the interaction go on. She’s always been a stubborn one.
Still, he leaves on his own. You sigh, looking to your friend, “come on,” you say, opening the door to go to where he will end up.
“Ok, kid. You ok with a quick flight?” Nimona asks you as you look at the scale of the building. It’s intimidating; that, and heights were never your thing.
You gulp, “y-yeah.”
“Alright!” She says, happy you’re trying to put yourself out there more.
So, up you go. Despite the fact that she can shapeshift, she keeps you in mind as well as you sneak into the cells section. You do, however, keep watch, letting her go into the cell and break Ballister out the old fashion way – and the way she more enjoys, violently punching the release.
In the closet, you help keep it closed, finding more items. Out of the two, you’ve always been the more resourceful one.
She gives you a single look after Ballister makes his promise. You know what she’s going to do, so you just pull Ballister back a bit as Nimona shifts once again.
Having had some close calls and only gotten away via her shifting, you’re able to stay on better than Ballister, though you do help him when you can reach him. As for you and Nimona, however, you’re pretty much in synch with each other.
However, then comes the need for an exit. You know Nimona can fly, but she can’t hold both of you. So —
“I’ll lead them away,” you say, not allowing anyone to stop you as you take off in the opposite direction.
“Y/N, no! Come back!” Nimona calls out to you. She knows you are quick on your feet, but this is a bad place to try to be. Don’t get her wrong, she’s having fun causing havoc, but now what she might gain in a boss, she may lose a friend. She won’t do that.
Still, nothing she can do. Boss comes first.
So, off she goes, getting them both to the floor.
“Do you see them?” Nimona asks; and he hears the concern in her voice. She’s violent, but cares a lot. He respects that. Despite being surround and fighting, he tries as much as he can to keep an eye out for you.
“There!” He shouts, pointing up before dodging another strike.
Nimona turns as well, smirking, but concern still in her eyes as she sees you near a ledge. You don’t even think about it, you just jump.
So, with the wings once again, she flies upwards, dodging any attacks, before catching you and bring you down to the ground.
You both roll, before joining the Frey once again. You’ve never been as good in fights as her, but your agility and quick thinking does help. Nimona goes more aggressive once she sees Ballister in trouble. You go around some of the guards to help, but you’re taken down too.
That’s only enrages her further.
After you escape, you both start to bond with him. And, he seems a bit more at ease with you both now. You did break him out after all. So, he lets you help. Being a bit more open to ideas.
You all get down to the subway, seeing your wanted images. Somehow, you had never been photographed, so you were just a question mark. Seemed fitting, in a way, you guessed.
“Hm, no,” your best friend says, looking from you to the question mark you, “I don’t see the semblance.”
You roll your eyes, and she just giggles to herself. Ballister watches you both, eyes softening slightly at your genuine friendship and connection.
On the subway, he asks you guys, “so, how long have you both known each other?”
You share a look; her’s is asking if you want to say it, and also asking if you are ok with it being said; yours is the same.
You both shrug. She goes first with her tale, using it to make fun of Ballister.
He still seems a little disturbed by her ability to shift, even asking her to go back a to the ‘normal’ version of her. You both raise eyebrows at him. Sure, he tries to cover up by saying that it’s for other people, and not him, but you don’t exactly buy it.
“Are some of your best friends, ‘normal’?” You say, having heard that before with some people trying to cover up their hatred for you by saying that they know others. It’s bullshit.
“What? I — I, no… No, that’s not what I meant —“ he says, trying to correct his error.
“Too late,” you say, folding your arms, looking away.
Nimona changes back to her human self, putting a hand on your shoulder.
“I, uh, I’m sorry,” Ballister says. You keep looking away.
“Boss means it, Y/NN,” Nimona says, squeezing your shoulder a bit.
Ballister goes to say something else, but Nimona only holds up a hand. He nods, knowing that this is your moment. You need your own breather.
After a moment, you look up at him, seeing his eyes holding a genuine guilt to it. And a plead to make this all better. It’s the first time someone other than Nimona has looked at you. Like a person. A friend, maybe even.
You look at your best friend, the only person you’ve ever been able to call family, and she gives you a smile. You mirror it, putting your hand on top of hers.
“Thanks, Nim,” you say softly.
She removes her hand, before nudging you with her arm, “course, squirt. You and me, right?” She says, holding out her pinky finger. You link yours to hers.
“You and me. Nimona and Y/N.”
“And that’s all that matters.”
Ballister smiles. Then a thought comes to him about the question he asked but didn’t get answers to.
“Are you guys siblings?”
You look at each other again, and nod in sync.
“Closest we’ll ever get to it.”
“That’s cool,” he says, “seriously. Having a friend is…it must be nice.”
Again, you share a look; your journeys have been rough, and you’ve saved each other more times than you can count, but he’s right.
Nimona changes to a small boy, and you smile at her comment of “I am today,” before she goes off to do her part of this hastily cobbled together plan.
Ballister notices your look, “what’s wrong?”
“Just…it’s weird.”
Ballister chuckles, but not in a mean why; more surprise than anything else, “can’t be, especially not compared to my day so far.”
You nod, only really half listening. But, the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, “I don’t…I don’t feel a fit in with…all this,” you say, pointing to him and then a random woman across the road, “and Nim…she’s fluid with it, you know? Labels don’t really matter to her. I like them. But…I can’t find the right ones. We do our names, and it works and it…I mean, it’s a statement and I love that, really. I just — I don’t know.”
“We’ll find it,” he says, not catching himself on the first word, “trust me, from what I’ve seen of Nimona, she’d burn it all down for you to find it.”
“We’ve taken up too much time,” you say, clearing your throat, gesturing for him to follow you, as you watch the man Nimona was – well, once distracting, but now chasing, went around the corner, “sorry.”
You don’t give him time to say anything back in return, you just take his hand and lead him out into the street once again, trying to find a getaway.
He recognises someone; the one with the punchable face? Maybe, you can’t quite remember. Either way, Ballister is terrified.
He hastily gets you into the vehicle with him, but you do see Nimona with a giddy smile as she shuts the boot.
Then, off you go, though Nimona does call out to you to get down.
With nothing but blind luck, you make it to an alley way. Ballister freaks out at Nimona being hurt, but she doesn’t show it hurts that much. You’re sure it does, but not as much as what is going on inside of her. You sit on the boot of the vehicle as they talk, though they do make their conversation loud enough to make you feel included.
You watch with soft eyes at the interaction, and how Nimona describes it all. When she jumps down when saying “I just wouldn’t be me,” she puts a hand on your leg too, “just like they wouldn’t be them.”
She then nudges you, “go on, bud,” she says softly, gesturing over to the bench, “go have your lil session. I’ll stay with this guy,” she says, jumping up on the boot, legs swinging.
Silently, you go over to Ballister. He looks at a cut on your arm. You aren’t entirely sure when you got it, but he does what he can to clean it.
“May I try ask again how you met?”
“Sure,” you say, looking to Nimona, she nods, encouraging smile in tow, “not the greatest of origin stories. I was always a street rat,” a crumbled up piece of paper hits your head, thrown by your best friend, “Was just always out on the streets. Never remembered anything from before. Guess either I was abandoned by parents dying, or they just left me.”
Ballister pauses, looking at you with sympathy. Nimona’s eyes are casted down to the floor. Like noted before, your lives weren’t easy, even if you had each other. The chaos was always fun, when you guys controlled it. Rebellion was something you both loved, but you were always focused more on survival than rebellion; even though you tried.
“I’m so sorry.”
You give him a sad smile, “I have my moments where…” you drift off. Nimona’s eyes shoot right up to your figure. She knows where your thoughts are going.
“Your parents were either unlucky, or bad people,” she says, “if it’s the latter, then they lost out on someone awesome.”
“Thanks, Nim.”
“No, she’s right,” Ballister says in support, “you’re a sweet, kid. You’re loyal, and kind.”
“But I don’t know who I am.”
“Well, if it helps, I thought I liked girls when I was around your age,” you chuckle softly at that after he does.
“I don’t think I want that from anyone,” you admit. Nimona smiles, glad you feel safe enough to say it. It’s your own small rebellion; she can’t be prouder of you, even muttering out a small ‘hell yeah’ under her breath.
“That’s cool,” Ballister says; you scrunch your eyes brows up slightly, not expecting him to say that, “we want what we want from life. And…if I may ask, about the other thing?”
“…I – I don’t…I don’t think ‘he’ or ‘she’ fit me. I mean,” you look to Nimona in self consciousness, “I know that’s swapping one label for another, but —”
“Labels can help us find a home in ourselves,” she says, wisely. Ballister looks to her, seeing her gaze soft as she continues, “sometimes they change. But, as long as it’s your choice on it changing, then it’s all cool with me.”
You nod, but Nimona catches the slight guilt in your eyes. She hops off the boot, approaching you as Ballister finishes his work on the cut – having only resumed it after your addition, “I always said I’ll tell ya as many times as you need. And I don’t mind, really,” she says, putting an arm on your good shoulder, “you’re my little buddy. My best friend. You’re Y/N, and who that is may shift and change, but you’re still you at the core of that.”
Emboldened by your friends and the feeling of safety to be honest, you look to the man in the boot, “shall we?”
The two look to the man, who then speaks. Saying he’s happy for you all, but now really just wants to be let go.
“Oh, yeah,” your best friend says, cracking her knuckles.
You get the video evidence that’s you need. This is it, your boss – and maybe even friend at this point – can be free. Sure, it pisses you both off at his want to still believe in this system – this system that is built to hate people like you – but you still go with him. Nimona says she’s in it because everyone hate’s Ballister too; and yes, that is part of your reasoning too – you guys aren’t alone anymore. But…if you’re honest with yourself, it’s mainly the latter part to that. To find your crew, you go by your labels and accept you fully.
The plan goes well, and you all escape together this time. Ballister holding you as you fly away.
“Why didn’t we think of this the first time?” You shout over the wind.
“We’re not very smart!” Nimona says with a chuckle.
“You have your moments, though?” Ballister asks, cheekily.
You both laugh this time, “seems so!” You say in sync.
Back at Ballister’s, the events of everything, including another brawl - this time you were more successful - though Ballister was almost taken in but you guys won, and feeling of safety, allows you to sleep soundly for once. Nimona runs a hand through your hair, head in her lap. Ballister puts a blanket over her.
“Don’t wake them, Boss,” is all Nimona says, quietly.
Ballister chuckles quietly, “I won’t, don’t worry,” he assures, before going to his computer.
Nimona soon falls asleep herself.
When Ballister meets with Ambrosius, nothing on your past comes up. Ambrosius is question on it, and says, “I’m sorry, Bal. I really am. I think that (he/she) —“
“They,” he interjects.
“Ok, sorry, yes,” Ambrosius says, correcting himself, “I think they may of met Nimona and been taken down a path. But,” he reaches out and takes Ballister’s hands in his own, “you can stop this. You can save them. We can.”
When Ballister comes back, Nimona seemingly has a sixth sense about this. She wakes up, happy, but slightly on edge when she sees the look on his face. Carefully, she removes herself from you.
“What are you?” Ballister seethes.
“We aren’t doing this here,” Nimona says, moving to the back of the couch, as if a shield.
“Answer me.”
“You aren’t dragging them into this,” she says, a fiery protectiveness in her gaze, “do you know how much they’ve been –“
“How much as done because of you?” That stings, she won’t lie, “you drag them around with you into your schemes. They’re an innocent pers-“
“Exactly,” Nimona says, keeping her voice quiet, but letting the anger still roll through her words, “so, if you wanna blame someone, which you oh so apparently do, then blame me, ok?”
“What’s going on?” You say, slurred as you still adjust to the world. You blink a few times, before slowly sit up on the sofa. You turn to your friends, and both have angry looks on their faces, “what’s wrong?”
“Gloreth,” Ballister says, “the darkness she was fighting to keep out? It was her,” he says, ripping the bandaid off instantly.
You look to Nimona, eyes wide, but not filled with fear, just shock.
“Y/N…” Nimona says, seemingly only seeing what she wants to.
“Nim,” you say, taking her hands in your own, “it doesn’t matter,” despite the reassurances, her mind is already made up. Those voices that she’s kept at bay for herself, and help you fight – and you have returned the favour in both small and large ways – are back in full force. You can see it on your friend…on your sister’s face. It pains you to no end.
“Get away from her, Y/N,” Ballister advices.
“No,” you say, firmly.
“Y/N, please…” you hate how her voice cracks a bit, looking at you.
“Hey, what was it you always said? We’re all we’ve got. You and me, yeah?”
“Don’t you understand what she is. She’s a —”
“No,” you spit, looking to Ballister, who is a bit taken aback, “it doesn’t matter. It matters who she really is. She’s Nimona. Just like I’m Y/N, and you’re Ballister. You’re the ex-knight. I’m the street rat, and Nimona is the reason this broken system was made in the first place.”
“It’s not broken,” Ballister says, running a hand through his hair.
“It always has been!” You shout, he jumps, “don’t you get that? Someone framed you for power. That power is used to make people like me hate themselves. It turns people against each other. It tears people apart, and you still support it!”
“Because it keeps us safe from monsters who want to destroy it!” He can’t stop the words as they tumble out. But, as soon as he sees you both flinch, he wants to take it back.
Nimona runs first, and as you go to follow, you pause at Ballister’s door, “you know, I really thought you’d be different,” the words strike him just like Ambrosius’ sword did. Then, you’re gone.
He slams his hand onto the table, swiping objects away. One gets his attention, that old arm he’d made. The spare. The useful spare. The one that got him through a lot before this better one.
Sure, he knew the metaphor didn’t completely work, but you were curious being. You just wanted to find safety, and Nimona just wanted to find that as well. You were both just looking for love in a world that hid it from you because of who you were.
He remembered when he first came out, how it was rocky. You were both young (sure, Nimona was old in terms of this story of her, but she was a young girl in physical form) and your lives had been several levels below rocky.
You and Nimona were all you had. He…god he realises, he was part of that too. For a moment, they let someone else in. Let someone else be a lifeline.
The words he’d said…he could see on Nimona’s face when she looked at you that something had changed in your dynamic as soon as he said it. She looked at you like she was a poison, and there was no antidote. He always remembered your words, about how at the beginning you would…oh, oh he knows what you mean now by what you wanted to do.
That pain because you couldn’t be free; you couldn’t completely be you. Oh no. Oh god.
He finds his sword. The thing that started him on this path. A path that led him to you both. Two spirited, loyal people.
He then feels the ground shake. He looks to the tv. He knows who that is. He knows who is on one last run.
“Good Gloreth,” he says, before running out of the door, just hoping that he isn’t too late. That he can make this right. As right as he can, anyway.
As for you, you try all you can to get Nimona’s attention, and she only flies away. God, you hate it; you’ve never really been out to this part of the walled off city before. You don’t know where she would go. You go to the town. There’s an abandoned building you went to one time when at a low. Nimona saved you that day, flying up to you and sitting with you. It must’ve been hours, but she managed to get you down and home. Sure, that location changed. But Nimona was a constant. She was family. She was home. She was security; always there for a pep talk or defence. You were always there with a plan or a way out. She’d always follow them, executing them to a T. You just worked.
You affirmed each other. Any doubts you’d talk about. You’d clean swap clothes, steal some if they didn’t fit or felt wrong. Tag areas with different names, but the same style so everyone knew it’s was you.
You feel a rumble as you reach the top of the building. A dark, shadowy creature, makes its way into town. Stomping over things, but not hitting anything. The only time it does is when it’s shot, screeching out in pain as it falls down.
You know who it is. You recognise a part of the scream.
It’s Nimona.
You look down the building, a hell of a drop. You see more of the flying vehicles going for her. Quickly, you do some calculations. You take a few steps back. Don’t get yourself wrong, you’re not in the healthiest of mindsets right now. If you miss, it’s a big drop, and then…well, whatever comes next. But, you have to try this. You have to try and protect your family as best you can. So, counting down quickly, you run.
You jump.
You land right on one of the vehicles. The guard is too shocked to really do anything. So, you push him with all your might, and he falls, but catches himself. You just focus on the controls of this thing. Not that many. It’s simple, but effective. It works.
So, despite some near crashes, you sort of get the hang of this thing. You use it to shoot at the attackers hurting Nimona. Some fire back at at you, others dodge and keep going at this person they decided needs to be put down for the benefit of the people.
You try your most, even get lucky, but there’s a lot of carnage going on; all their own doing.
You see, however, what Nimona is making a bee line for. The sharp end of a sword that was pointed at her so long ago.
You race forward, not even noticing your previous guard friend managing to climb back up. He wrestles with you for the controls. Once again sending you pretty much into things. However, he then pulls the breaks, but catches you before you fall. He’s not looking at you now, he’s looking at Nimona, who is stood in front of the sword, white, beating heart out.
“NO!” You cry, sending the vehicle forward once again. You get to the sword, jumping off it. The guard tries to stop you, but just misses.
“Stop —“ he calls. But, a new voice stops him.
“They’re with me!” Ballister, “they’re with me.”
He looks at you; so many apologies and silent words being sent at you at once.
You nod, “later,” you say, before running to save your sister. He follows. You both hold her back. She looks down at you.
Ballister apologises to her as well. She looks to you.
“Please don’t,” is all you can say, “I need my sister. I need my sister,” you say, repeating it as your tears finally leak.
She changes back, and you both catch her. She looks a mess, beaten to high hell, but alive.
“I love you too,” she says to you as the three of you hug. You pull back, looking at her with elation -she’d always shown it, never said it; but you did always, sort of selfishly, wanted to hear her say it – and she chuckles tiredly and brings you into a hug of just the two of you, “I need my sibling in my life too. Besides, you rebelled completely against them,” she says, having seen you on the roof and your stunt, “guess I could do something a bit different, yeah?”
You chuckle, tightening the hug. It feels right. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Ballister joins, and it mostly feels complete.
A hug of a family. Of people who love and accept each other.
People soon start running again, and you all see a giant cannon aimed directly at you all. You all look at the citizens, knowing it will hurt them as well.
“No –“ you say, looking to Nimona, knowing what she is planning.
She smiles, however; her mind is mind up.
She kisses you on the forehead, “I love you,” she mumbles, before giving Ballister a wink, “take care of them for me, Boss.”
“Nimona,” Ballister says, trying to stop her. To try find another way.
However, “we know I’m fast enough to stop that thing,” she says, “and we’re wasting too much time. I get to punch someone with a punchable face, like really hard,” she then looks back to you, and sees you about to break again, “hey,” she says, cupping your face in her hands, “I’ll always be here,” she puts her hand on your chest, “you’ve got this. You’re gonna build a new, better, world.”
With that, she turns into a phoenix, and flies right into the cannon. The explosion rocks the wall, creating a massive gap in it. What does it show? It shows that the outside world is beautiful, that they had anything to fear. There is danger there, but also beauty. So much beauty.
Ballister and you go down to try and find Nimona, instead you only find red specs flying around.
You curl up into a ball, letting out sobs.
Ambrosius comforts Ballister, but saw how you were with the guardsman above. Granted in glimpses, but given your friendship with Nimona, your distrust of this system that he too is now questioning is understandable. So, he lets Ballister take his time before bringing you into a hug as you both cry for your fallen friend.
Some time passes, and you are all called heroes. You move in with Ballister, and your friendship rebuilds. He becomes this role model to you of perseverance and light. Softness and love. He becomes a sort of parental figure. He supports you when you stumble, and you do the same for him.
Ambrosius respects your boundries. He’s a nice person, even if you have your many issues with the system. He listens, like actually listens to them, and does what he can to set them right. He knows it will take time, but he knows you’ll appreciate the effort.
It’s slow going with him, but he is sweet. He’s kind. So, you are warming up to him. And he’s getting to know you. And, you do have to admit, him and Bal are sweet.
One day, when you’re in home alone, Bal and Ambrosius out on a date, you hear something. It’s like the wind, but that’s not possible as it’s a peaceful day. You then turn, seeing a glare of light. It gets brighter and brighter —
And then it stops. You lower your hand, and drop your bowl of popcorn. It doesn’t break, but the effect is there.
“Hey, champ,” you hear her say.
And you barrel right into Nimona’s awaiting arms. She chuckles, spinning you around before putting you back on the ground, “oh, look at you!” She says, turning your head with her hands, noting the subtle changes to your style and your looks, “you look so good!”
You chuckle, before going in for another hug. She hugs you back just as tightly.
She shuts her eyes, hoping to hold this moment in her mind forever; just as you are as well.
She pulls back, then looks to the TV, “what you watching, squirt?” She asks. You grab her hand, and pull her to it, hopping over it, which she mirrors on the other side, before now sharing the blanket with her and handing her the bowl and filling it up with more popcorn.
You hit play, and both watch the TV.
Bal comes back, and does a double take when he sees you both. It’s like a mirror version of the last time he saw you asleep on her lap, hand going through your hair again.
“Oh, hey, Boss,” she says, “just figured I’d pop in, say ‘hi’ and all that.”
Ballister can only laugh, tears of happiness forming in his eyes.
“Hi,” he says, holding his arms open.
“Hey,” she says, hugging him.
The family is complete.
Y/N and Nimona the siblings; and Balister and Ambrosius the parental/older siblings. The label isn’t exactly exact, but sometimes labels aren’t. They fluctuate.
But the love, just as the person, is still there. Still them. Still have all that love and hope inside of them.
Some people like labels, some don’t.
Either way, you all fit together. You all know what you are.
Family. And a family who aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
#nimona x reader#Nimona imagine#platonic reader#platonic reader insert#platonic imagine#Nimona x platonic reader#Nimona x platonic!reader#Nimona x Best Friend Reader#Nimona x Sibling Figure Reader#reader insert#Nimona Reader Insert
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— rodan.
pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley/younger!reader [gn]
genre: platonic
fandom: call of duty: modern warfare 2
summary: rodan and ghost have been partners for as long as the younger could remember, after a tragic accident that resulted in the loss of their entire team they decided to stick with the masked man permanently…. surprisingly, he wasn’t opposed to that
c/w: blood and death, depictions of violence and gore, war/militant violence, gender neutral terms and pronouns (they/them), gender unspecified
a/n: there’s gonna be several different parts because the campaign is long as all fucking hell 😭 but i want to write out the entire thing w reader insert so.. hope you enjoy this little snippet!
—
the sun was scorching. blistering as it burned, it’s rays hot and stifling across the torrid desert plains of al mazrah, united republic of adal.
and even more stifling and oppressively warm against the back of one [y/name] [l/name]. callsign; rodan. an expert in pyrotechnics and demolitions, a ‘one hell of a shot’ sniper, and a pretty thoroughly trained medic. the callsign was their idea actually, being an avid godzilla fan growing up and having watched the entire series beginning to end at least a dozen times.
their commanding officer at the time of choosing it agreed wholeheartedly. though, his was less based on fantasy movies and more so based on [y/name]’s strange fascination with anything that is fire and demolitions. even stranger was their seemingly vast and deep knowledge of the subjects. “rodan huh? fire demon indeed ain’tcha kid?”
[y/name] swore through and through they weren’t a pyromaniac. though their partner, ghost, had a hard time believing that after a mission in peru. which not only resulted in a new scar across their face.. but also an enemy building being set ablaze and leveled to the ground at their hand. the tick that set him off about their weird love of all things fire and demolitions was their manic laughter as the building collapsed.
the callsign made sense to him now, but when he was first partnered with the kid he was set off by their strange obsession, and sharply polished fighting skills. now though, he knew the kid was —excluding their persona on the battlefield— relatively harmless.
couldn’t say the same for their incredible talent in working every last one of his nerves though—
“uuggghhhh.”
—ghost sighed under his breath, though he wouldn’t ever admit it the annoyed feeling he had was stitched with a deep and profound fondness and love for the whining sniper walking behind him.
“keep walkin’.” he grumbled.
“it’s so fucking hot,” they complained. halting for a moment to tug at the bunched up fabric of their tactical joggers creasing up their crotch.
“it’s just the fuckin’ sun kid,” ghost responded.
“well the sun is shitting all over me,” [y/name] grouched, “everything’s rubbing and pinching! i’m in need of some baby powder or something!”
“what you need is a fuckin’ muzzle.” ghost teased, though his comment was insulting his tone let the younger soldier know he was only playing.
“oh wow that was a good one,” they mocked, “it was still a good one the last seventy fucking times you used it.”
“if i’ve had to say it seventy fuckin’ times maybe it’s time to do a little self reflectin’.”
[y/name] feigned a laugh, then dropped their expression to annoyed as they glared at him from the corner of their eye. not that he could see them side-eyeing him past their black tactical goggles. or see their expression through the black tactical mask on the lower half of their face. “you’re so fucking funny. honestly, i’m in goddamn stitches over here.”
ghost let one corner of his lips pull up into a jibing smirk behind his mask, the banter between him and the pyromaniac succeeding in lightening his mood—
“i’m not havin’ a good time either but i’m not gonna whinge the entire time.”
—only slightly.
“well that’s the difference between you and me, that and i’m very good looking.”
“and humble.”
[y/name] laughed, an actual laugh spilling from their lips at his response to their arrogance. ghost spun around, having turned to face the sniper when they stopped to pull the pinching wedgie out of their ass and the pair remaining where the stood throughout the duration of their conversation. “let’s keep movin’. we’re nearly there.”
the masked man didn’t bother turning over his shoulder to make sure they were following, he knew they’d dutifully fall in step behind him as he stalked through the desert plain. and [y/name] did just that, after tugging the creases in their pants loose again.
the sniper didn’t complain much after that, finding a bit of solace in the cool shadows of the canyon they entered, and the way their tactical goggles blocked out most of the reflective light.
if they were to complain about anything other than the sheering heat and blinding sunshine, it would be the mask over the lower half of their face that was making it a touch harder to breathe. they figured ghost was well past his limits with their grousing though so they kept that little problem to themself.
they continued forward regardless, following their partner as he climbed rocks and vaulted over old and withered dead logs. until finally, they made it to their assigned checkpoint.
it was an overhanging ledge, one that had a crystal clear vantage point of the relatively large militia gathering several miles ahead and on level ground.
and that there was their assignment. an arms deal iranian terrorists were to make with russia, and the iranian’s qud’s force general; ghorbrani was due to be there. their mission was to assassinate him. with commander graves of shepherd’s ‘shadow company’ leveling the rest of the gathered militia with a short range missile.
[y/name] let ghost communicate to laswell, and everyone else on their channel that they were in position. graves responded he was ready to launch the missile when they were. with that the masked man turned to his partner at his side. “go ahead kid.”
[y/name] nodded then got down onto their stomach, inching forward in an army crawl until they could perch their rifle right at the very rim of the cliff they were on. when it was set firmly into the grooves of the sandstone they leaned forward and peered through the scope, swiveling the barrel until the crosshair aligned perfectly with general ghorbrani’s head. “set.”
ghost nodded at their word of confirmation then reached up to click the button on the radio strapped to his shoulder. “rodan is clear. launch the missile.”
“copy, sending now.”
[y/name] counted the seconds down in their head, listening in to graves’ countdown as well just to be sure they aligned the shot perfectly.
when they reached two together rodan clenched their finger and pulled the trigger, they watched through their scope as ghorbrani’s head jerked to the side with a geyser of blood before his body dropped.
the men surrounding him panicked, scrambling about and lifting their guns. and that’s all [y/name] saw before they pulled away from their scope and ducked their head into the crook of their elbow. bringing their opposite arm up to cover their head as the missile made contact.
a loud and piercing explosion erupted in their ears as the missile made contact, they felt the rush of wind from the explosive then the rumble of the earth through their gear and uniform.
when [y/name] lifted their head from the cover they saw the area had been demolished, and the smoke from the missile rolling outwards in a ring from the contact point.
“bloody fuckin’ hell,” they heard ghost mutter quickly followed with; “direct hit. target destroyed.”
[y/name] lifted themself from the ground and dusted off the front of their gear, swiping their hand quickly over their pants to get the dust collected on the fabric off.
the dust didn’t puff up in a cloud as they patted their pants though, the sandy colored dirt sticking to their joggers. they grumbled and let the rifle slide from their hands to hang at their hip before using both hands to try and pat it off. again… no avail.
[y/name] growled angrily as their patting and dusting turned aggressive to try and get rid of the shit all over their pants.
“quit fussin’ with it!” ghost growled grabbing their wrists and tugging them away from their joggers. having been watching them grow more and more irritated with the dust in their pants.
“it’s gonna annoy the hell outta me!”
“try to ignore it!”
“i can’t do that if i already know it’s there!”
“well it obviously ain’t gonna come off! just get movin’ back to extract!” he order firmly and in finality, the sniper grumbled under their breath as they spun around when he released their wrists.
ghost followed behind them as they both trekked back the way they came, walking just about a mile or two before coming upon the heli sat idle on a leveled plateau. the pilot still sat in the front with his arms folded and his head dropped forward on his chest.
[y/name] stifled their laughter at the ‘dad pose’ the pilot took to taking a nap and ghost huffed before he roughly pushed them forward. the sniper having stopped to leer humorously at the sleeping soldier. “get your ass in the damn helicopter.” he growled.
[y/name] didn’t say anything as they clambered into the chopper through the gaping door, settling relatively quick on the seat up against the wall of the chopper. they heard ghost knock on the window with his knuckle, the soldier awakening with a flinch as he turned to the source of the noise to find ghost gesturing they were ready to ship out.
the pilot nodded as he slid on a headset and flicked several switches above his head to get the helicopter going. the headphones over their ears muffled out the loud shriek of whirring blades as the bird started up.
ghost climbed in and took the seat directly across from his partner, after sliding on a headset of his own he found himself staring at them.
[y/name] didn’t pay him any mind, long since having grown used to the way he likes to observe and keenly watch everything around him.
they instead lifted their fingers to the sides of their goggles and pulled them off from over their eyes to rest on their hairline. then reaching back, loosened the tightening buckles of their mask, they held it while they tugged down the black tactical shemagh they usually layered underneath their metallic mask down to bunch up in their neck. then let the black steel mask drop to sit in the space of their neck atop of it.
ghost’s focus was immediately drawn to the scars on their face, the one spanning across the left side of their face particularly. starting thin at their hairline and thickening as it scratched over their eyebrow, eye and ended in the middle of their cheek.
then his eyes graced over the one across the right side of their lips, the small x scar on their right cheek, and then finally the medium sized one just above their right eyebrow. that was the one they obtained in peru, when one of the assailants they were fighting managed to knick them with his knife.
when they leaned their head back, closing their eyes with a sigh, ghost could just barely see the thick and jagged scar spanning across the length of the front of their neck. the scar anyone could tell was from someone slashing their throat. [y/name] still remembers that day. vividly.
and they’ve never ever spoken about it. not even to ghost. the only reason he knew the scar existed in the first place was because one day [y/name] hadn’t been wearing the black tactical shemagh they usually wear in their neck to obscure it.
and even now he barely saw it past the brim of said scarf, bunched up around their neck, the tactical mask resting in the dip of their throat obscuring it alongside.
he stared a moment longer before turning away and watching the desert plains as they sped passed. when they finally touched down in their temporary outpost, they both were quick to climb out and make their way inside.
meeting up with laswell and briefing her on how the mission went on their end. then, the pair were shocked to be told they’ve been granted a few months of leave. their station chief believing they could use the long over due off-duty time.
when they got this news neither [y/name] nor simon were too enthusiastic. they both didn’t have much, or anything at all to go home to.. there wasn’t really any reason for them to be excited to temporality be on a break from their militant careers.
what they did have was each other.. and they find solace in that and as usual ghost spent those months with the younger soldier, and as usual he was able to melt back to simon.
simon who was comfortable in [y/name]’s presence. not ghost; the cold and desensitized soldier who had an indifference to everything surrounding him. he could just be simon, the man behind the mask who felt a love like no other for the kid. the kid who had grown on him.
and he was afraid of those implications. for in his very long and very traumatic life simon had come to realize there was nothing good in this world for him. everything he’s ever had that came close to being something or someone he could love.. was incinerated and destroyed.
and he was certain the young soldier would meet the same fate.. but he couldn’t help it. they reminded him so much of himself that it made him dwell on their presence so much more.
he was a bit shocked that he had taken to them so quickly, but he was more so shocked that the sniper in turn had taken a shine to him too.
he knew very little of [y/name]’s background, only what they had told him when they first met about their trauma and nightmarish past. they, only doing so after he shared a bit about what he went through.
though, as the months and months continued to pass he found himself growing more and more attached to the younger. it was a strange thing… whenever in their presence he had felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in years.
a warmth he believed with every sliver of his being had been destroyed alongside any semblance of happiness or comfort he had or would have.
but alas… there they were. [y/name].
his [y/name].
and he would do anything to keep them safe… alive.. he had to. because for once in his entire damn life..
… simon would be selfish.
—
a/n: ik it’s short as hell but i’ve a plan for this okay.. and i’m also trying to finish up the last couple chapter of ‘anpu’ so this is what we’ve got 🌝 i’ve also grown to realize i’ve a habit of not only making [reader] crazy strong and badass but also refuse to reveal any of their history ever lmaooo
#gn!reader#platonic!reader#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#ghost x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader#cod x reader#x reader#reader insert#platonic imagine#platonic relationships
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Hi! If that's okay could i request Ciel with an older sibling reader that has three dogs? Specifically a Pomerania, a rottweiler and a dobermann, and the two bigger ones are also protection dogs.
The dogs are very friendly and the bigger ones are also very protective of both the reader and him (especially the rottie, those dogs are overprotective).
(Ciel deserves a good elder sister, also thank you for requesting this!)
Ciel X Elder sister! Reader:
You have three dogs!
✲ You were Ciel's elder sister and got the luck opportunity to study abroad, you often visited your younger twin brother and spoiled them, O! Ciel and R! Ciel both have good memory of you as were Ciel’s elder sister and had already left for education to a boarding girl’s school by the time the manor was burnt down and the whole manor was rebuilt again, you still couldn’t visit your brother until a few years later. You were devastated by your parents’ death and your brothers’ disappearance! You were raised by Madam Red until you graduated!
✲ You had finally finished your studies, got a good paying job and were living normally when you finally got the chance to meet your younger brother, you were told by Tanaka how things were going on around the house since the moment Ciel returned. He told you about his mysterious and efficient butler, Sebastian and the chaotic trio which ruin the manor from time to time, Mey-rin, Finny and Bardroy!
✲ Things have changed around the household, Tanaka wrote to you, and finally you were visiting with you three fur babies! (I’m naming your dogs because yes) The Doberman, Momo, and the Rottweiler, Zomi, were your two babies and your guard dogs but you had a demon as well!! It was a Pomeranian, coffee…..SHE WAS A BIG DEMON!! But a cute demon!!! But a demon nonetheless, she was in charge of your house…..And boss of Momo and Zomi, they’re boys btw…..
✲ So when you came visiting, Coffee was literally yelling your ears off in the carriage and Zomi and Momo were both hiding their ears under their paws because they didn’t want to hear her chattering your ears off because of how she doesn’t know where she is….And the thing is when you reached the manor, you told Ciel you had three dogs and Sebastian obviously wasn’t happy with the news but had to listen and so when Ciel and Sebastian came outside the manor and you opened the door to the carriage, Coffee jumped out FIRST AND FOREMOST! She always does…
✲ But the moment Coffee saw Ciel, she shut her mouth and waddled towards him and Ciel being the dog lover he is picked her up and the EXPRESSION ON YOUR FACE WAS PRICELESS, coffee HATES being picked up and she never shuts up unless she is sleeping so her shutting up and not caring she’s picked up shows she is a fan of Ciel, you then stepped out and then Zomi and Momo stepped out behind you, they honestly didn’t care much about anything other than the fact that there was another person who smelt like you, they swarmed Ciel closely sniffing him making Ciel giggled as you hugged Ciel tightly, Sebastian backing up because he hates dogs…
✲ Ciel was excited to meet you again and like before you brought gifts to spoil your brother! Ciel not only excited to meet you but also your dogs, he got along with the three very well, especially Coffee who had taken a special liking to him and Sebastian for some reason, Coffee would often go up to him and rub herself on his feet, which not only made Sebastian cringe and shrivel up internally but also entertained Ciel because he knows how much Sebastian hates dogs! You always apologize in place of Ciel and Coffee to Sebastian but he always says while kissing the back of your hand “It’s alright, m’lady, after all if I can’t handle them what kind of butler would I be?” and you’re blushing pink…
✲ Ciel is always babying your three dogs, giving them snacks, even if you and Sebastian stop him, he won’t, he will sneak them snacks and your three dogs are always beside him, cuddling him when it’s his bed time, they no longer cuddle with you and you’re now upset and cold….but then you cuddle with Ciel and all three even if Coffee annoys you sometimes, but it’s bearable you’ve been handling for long now!!
✲ Ciel is also teaching Coffee tricks in trade of treats, something you never thought to teach her or any of your dogs for that matter, you only just wanted to live with them, play with them, feed them, cuddle them (Zomi & Momo), and care for them…Yeah, no teaching Zomi and Momo was something you may have thought of once, but Coffee was out of the question….
✲ Ciel, you, Zomi, Momo, Coffee and (sadly) Sebastian all go around in early mornings or maybe afternoons to play with dogs with all immense energy, and you get some exercise in, have a breather form lives and maybe sun if you’re lucky, I mean it’s England after all…
✲ Ciel with you, his elder sister’s/older baby’s permission, will use your dogs for finding clues, peoples and other things in his cases. He will understand if you say no, but the queen’s guard dog need his own guard dogs as well and Sebastian isn’t enough, Coffee’s angry screeching on Sebastian and Zomi’s warm hugs and Momo’s kisses are something he apparently needs to survive in his cases…
✲ Okay, but we need to specially mention Sebastian for handling THREE dogs plus a new puppy (you) for his old puppy (Ciel) all without an angry breakdown (at least not in front of you/ciel/any other servants/dogs) or being hostile, so he deserves a pat on the head and a week of un-connecting using his cats...no?
#kuroshitsuji#black butler#black butler headcanons#black butler anime#black butler x reader#black butler x you#black butler x y/n#sebastian michaelis#ciel phantomhive#black butler sebastian#platonic x reader#platonic love#ciel phamtonhive#sebastian michaelis x reader#sebastian michaelis fanart#kuroshitsuji sebastian#sebastian#kuroshitpost#platonic headcanons#platonic imagine#platonic fanfiction#platonic fluff#platonic fictional other#platonik aşk#platonic#kuroshitsuji ciel#black butler ciel
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Peaky Blinder Song
Warnings: violence, cursing, weapons, blood, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Shelby family x sister reader
*not my gif*
Summary: Growing up as a Shelby wasn’t always easy, but at least your siblings were always there for you
A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!
Inspired by: The Jet Song by the cast of West Side Story
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
When you're a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way
“Well, would ya look at that,” Tommy mused, the slightest bit of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spoke.
At his words, John and Arthur looked up from their breakfasts in confusion before following their brothers line of sight to where you were waddling into the room, one of their caps upon your head.
Arthur let out a booming laugh and scooped you up into his arms, playfully rubbing his mustache against your cheek, emitting giggles from you, “Would ya look at that!” He agreed.
“Where’d ya get that?” John asked, reaching up and gently shaking your foot.
You began blabbering to your older brothers, ignoring the fact that the hat had fallen into your face, covering your eyes. Arthur calmly lifted it up, seriously nodding as if he could understand a single thing that you were trying to say.
“Give ‘er here,” Tommy ordered gruffly, standing up and gently taking you from his elder brother's arms, eyes softening as you looked up at him with that toothy grin of yours, “What’re ya doin’?” He asked in amusement.
“I think she’s ready to be a Peaky Blinder, Tommy,” John laughed as the other man had to lift up the hat away from your face again.
“Is that so?” He asked teasingly, reaching out and ticking your stomach a little bit, “You gonna be the leader of the Blinders now, little one?”
Arthur laughed again, “We don’t need you anymore, Tommy, we’ve got Y/n.” He said jokingly.
“I think you might be right, Arthur,” He said seriously, “Looks like n/n can handle it from here.”
You began blabbering again after a loud laugh, making your brothers all chuckle around you.
“We’ve got our own little Peaky Blinder here.” John declared.
From your first cigarette
“Come on now,” Finn said impatiently, “Hold it for me.”
Without a word, you did as your brother demanded, taking the object in your hands and looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Finn Shelby.” The furious voice of your aunt made the boy tense up and freeze instantly.
“Polly,” He gulped, slowly turning around to face the woman.
The look on her face alone was enough to put him six feet under on the spot. He didn’t even want to think about what was going to happen to him.
“You better tell me right now why the hell my three year old niece is holding a cigarette, and if you don’t say that you found her like this, then you have something else coming for you.” The threat made him pale even further and his blood ran cold.
Oblivious to what was going on, you grinned up at your aunt, “Pol! Pol!” You cheered happily, dropping the cigarette and reaching your hands up to her.
Instantly, she stooped down and swept you into her arms, you snuggling closer to her hold without a second thought as your eyes fluttered shut and you sighed in contempt.
“What’s all the bloody racket in here?” Arthur inquired, stalking onto the room with Tommy following right behind.
“Your youngest brother tried handing a cigarette to your sister.” Polly didn’t once take her venomously dangerous glare off of the young boy.
By then, his eyes had begun to fill with tears, only for them to spring loose when the two older men’s heads snapped over to him.
“Finn,” Tommy spoke in that eerie stern voice that only he seemed to be able to master, “Is what she’s saying true?”
“I-I just wanted to be like you guys!” Finn sobbed openly, dropping his head into his hands, “I wanted to smoke and be like you!”
“And you though’ that makin’ our little sister hold your cigarette was the way to do that?” Arthur asked angrily, glowering at the boy.
He shook his head vigorously back and forth, “N-no!” He hiccuped, “I just had to do somethin’ so I needed her to hold in for a minute!”
“Oi!” Polly snapped in a harsh whisper, “Hush now, Y/n has fallen asleep.” She leveled a last glare at Finn, “We’ll deal with this later, young man.”
To your last dyin' day
A joyful laugh left your lips as you ran as fast as your little legs would take you down the alleyway.
True, Tommy and Arthur had told you to stay on the sidewalk where they could see you while you played, but it didn’t hurt to go for a little run to see how fast you could make it back.
Now five years old, you were constantly getting into mischief, reminding Polly too much of how the boys were when they were little.
You hadn’t been looking where you were going, your gaze was turned up towards the brightly lit sky, so you didn’t see the person standing in the middle of the alley until you ran right into his legs.
Stumbling slightly at impact, you quickly fell onto your backside with a small ‘oof’, a stinging sensation quickly making its way through your body from the pavement.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” A malicious voice snarled from above you, causing your head to snap up with wide eyes.
The man whose legs you ran into was sneering down at you from the end of his greasy nose. And to you, he looked downright terrifying.
“I-I’m sorry Mr,” You mumbled with wide eyes, slowly crawling backwards, “It was an accident.”
He shot you a sinister smile, slowly stalking towards you, “Was it now?” He hummed mockingly.
Your head bobbed up and down as you nodded desperately, “It was, I swear it was!”
The man shook his head softly and clicked his tongue, “Now, I’m findin’ myself not really believing you, girl.”
You could feel your face pale even more at his words, “I’m sorry!” You tried again, panic swirling in your stomach. This man scared you, and you didn’t like it.
“Listen here, you little-“ He snarled, storming over to you and snatching your arm in a bruising grip and squeezing while dragging you to your feet, making you cry out in pain.
“What is going on here?” Despite the deadliness of the calm in his voice, you still sagged in relief the second you heard Tommy speak.
“Nothin’ to worry about, Mr. Shelby. Just takin’ care of this little bitch.” From the way he spoke about you, it was clear as day that he didn’t know who you were.
“Is that so?” There was no mistaking the flash of complete rage that appeared on your brother's face, “And what does my baby sister have to do with that?”
If you thought your face had been pale before, it was nothing compared to how the man looked when all the color drained from his face instantly. He let go of your arm, stumbling away as if having been burned by the contact of your skin.
As soon as you were free, you scrambled over to Tommy, hiding behind his legs and burying your face into his coat that hung near your head.
“M-Mr. Sh-Shelby,” He immediately began begging, “I-I swear to god I didn’t know who she was-“
“Clearly,” Tommy cut him off coldly.
“Listen- listen, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, I never would have done that if I had known-“ Tears had begun cascading down his cheeks.
“But ya did, didn’ ya?” He questioned rhetorically, “And now you’re gonna have to pay the price for messin’ with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders.”
A hand reached out and touched your shoulder and you flinched away immediately, not having heard someone approach. Whipping your head around, you were met with the sight of Arthur, holding his arms out to you.
After one glance at Tommy for confirmation, you grabbed onto your eldest brother's hand and followed him out the alley. When you tried to look back, Arthur simply turned your head away and quickened your pace to get you out of there.
Silence carried on in your absence for a moment, Tommy letting it drag on until the man looked like he quite literally was going to suffocate from it.
“Did ya see that?” He asked quietly, taking slow, menacing steps towards the man, “Did ya see how jumpy she was after what ya did to her? How she flinched away from Arthur?”
“Please, please- I’m begging you-“ The man had quite literally backed himself into a corner, his head frantically whipping around to try and find a way out.
“You scared my little sister,” He carried on, “You hurt her. And something like that… is unforgivable.”
Arthur closed the door to the house particularly loudly just in time for a gunshot to go off, silencing it slightly from your ears.
When you're a Jet
“What’d ya want?” Harry asked jokingly, leaning over the counter of the Garrison so he could look at you, “A drink?”
You giggled loudly at his words and shook your head, “Polly says I can't be drinkin’ anything from here yet!” You replied with a wide grin.
“Now, is that so?” He tapped his chin as if thinking about it, “I suppose your aunt is always right, though, ain’t she?”
You nodded your head in agreement, swinging your legs back and forth from the barstool you sat at.
“Oi!” John called, coming sauntering out of an office in the back, “Ya better not be lettin’ my little sister drink!” The smirk that played at the ends of his lips let you both know he was joking around.
“Nah!” Harry shook his head, “I tried to be cool and let her, but that little rascal is a rule follower, she is.”
John laughed loudly at that, reaching over and ruffling your hair, “That don’t sound like my sister.” He teased, “She don’t ever follow no rules.”
“She sounds like a certain group of boys I know.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.
“Now, what’re you insinuating?” John leaned back against a table and placed his hands in his pockets, “That she's actin’ like us Blinders?”
“I think so,” The man reached over and playfully flicked your nose, making you laugh so hard that you almost went tumbling off the stool.
“Okay, alright, that’s enough now.” John quickly lowered you to the ground, not trusting you not to fall off anymore.
“Imma Blinder!” You cheered, giving your brother a toothy grin.
He laughed, bending down and scooping you up, “Yeah, I suppose ya are.”
If the spit hits the fan, you got brothers around
“Yer nothin’ but a stupid little kid,” A boy a couple years older than you, about Finn's age, sneered down at you, his raised voice attracting the attention of the other students in the school yard.
Despite the tears that began to collect in your eye ducts, you glared at him, not backing down, “That isn’t true!”
Even though he was way taller and bigger than you were, you stood your ground. That is, until he gave you a shove back by the shoulders and you went sprawling to the ground.
He had been picking on you for having mud on your clothes after playing with a couple friends outside before school and even though you tried to walk away, he just wouldn’t leave you alone.
The crowd that had gathered around gasped when you hit the ground, clearly not expecting it to escalate that quickly and your cheeks turned red.
“Hey!” None other than Finn Shelby had pushed his way through the sea of kids with a glare set on his face that resembled that of your brothers.
“What do you want?” The kid rounded on him, glaring down at your brother, who was still at least a head shorter than him.
“That’s my sister.” Finn informed him through gritted teeth, as if the boy didn’t already know.
You sniffled slightly, scrambling up and making your way over to him, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention, “It’s okay, Finn.” You mumbled, “Let’s just go.” You didn't want either of you to get into any trouble.
He just shrugged off your hand though, sizing the boy up before reeling his arm back suddenly and without warning sent it flying into the boy's nose.
Almost instantly afterward, two teachers surged through the crowd and quickly pulled the two boys apart, the one that had been picking on you now crying and holding his nose.
You and your brother had to sit in the principal's office until one of your siblings or aunt showed up, the house having been called for one of them to come pick you up.
Not too long had passed before Tommy made his way through the door, demanding and controlling aura in tow.
He ignored the staff that tried speaking to him, immediately turning his attention to the two of you, “What happened, eh?” He demanded sternly.
“I saw this kid push Y/n,” Finn jumped up to explain, “So I punched him in the face! Just like you and Arthur taught me to!”
Your older brother's eyes quickly flickered over to you, giving your body a quick once over to ensure that you were alright.
“Okay,” He spoke before turning on his heel and exiting, leaving behind a stunned teacher and not turning back to see the two of you scramble up to follow.
After walking to the car, he opened the door and waited for you two to get in before sliding into his own side. He didn’t start the car though, just turned to you.
“Are you alright?” He asked softly, to which you nodded your head, “Lucky Finn was there, then, eh?”
“I could’ve hit him too,” You insisted.
His lips quirked up, “I know, but it’s still good to have some backup sometimes.”
You were silent for a moment before turning to Finn, “Thank you for helping me.”
“He didn’t have the right to push ya,” He grumbled while leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
You're a family man
“Game night! Game night!” You cheered, sprinting into the living room before diving head first onto the couch.
“Mind your head,” Polly scolded, “Don’t need ya hittin’ it too hard that we have to end up takin’ ya to the doctors.”
“But it’s game night!” You cheered, falling backwards onto the couch with a large grin overtaking the entirety of your face.
“Did somebody say game night?” Arthur’s voice boomed into the room before he even entered it, with a smile that could be heard through his tone.
“I did!” You chorused back, “And I’m going to beat all of you?”
“Is that so?” John strode into the room with Tommy and Finn following close behind.
“Uh huh!” You agreed, turning your face as serious as you could make it in order to try and get your point across.
“Hmm,” John tapped his chin and pretended to think, “That's weird, ‘cause if I remember correctly, I was the winner of the last game night. Not you.”
You pouted at him, crossing your arms, “Well, I’m gonna beat ya this time!”
“Ya think so?”
“I know so!”
Arthur chuckled at your words and even Tommy softened a bit at the interaction.
You're never alone
“T-Tommy?” You called out hesitantly in the darkness, voice wavering as you spoke.
The man’s eyes immediately snapped open and he shot up, hand flying out to grab the gun that was kept under his pillow, “Y/n?” He echoed back, squinting to try and make you out through the dark room, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I-I had a nightmare,” You admitted in a whisper, shuffling your feet and toying with your fingers.
His entire being immediately sagged in relief, fingers loosening around the weapon once he realized that you were in no physical danger. He wasn’t stupid though, he knew how much of a danger dreams could be, how they could affect one’s mind.
“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, scooting over in the bed to make room, lifting up the blanket like an invitation.
You wasted no time before plunging onto the bed, cuddling up to your brother's chest, “Thank you,” You murmured shyly.
“No, need to thank me, sweetheart,” He mumbled, dipping his head so he could place a kiss on the top of your hair.
It was silent for a moment, and Tommy would’ve thought you had fallen back asleep if you hadn’t spoken up with an embarrassed whisper, “I know I’m eight now and I’m supposed to be a big girl, but it was really scary, Tommy.”
He let a small sign fall from his nose as he tightened his arms around you, “There’s no such thing as being too old for nightmares, sweetheart.”
You pulled away and looked up at him with wide eyes, “Really?”
He hummed, “I get them all the time.”
Your jaw was on the floor by then, “You do?” Never in a million years would you be able to picture your strong big brother having a bad dream.
“I do,” He repeated, “Do you want to talk about yours?”
Immediately, you shook your head into his chest, arms wrapping around his torso to the best of their abilities.
“Okay, alright,” He mumbled, leaving another kiss on your head, “You can go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything get you.”
You're never disconnected
You had no idea where you were. You spun around in circles but still couldn’t pinpoint your own location.
Earlier in the day, you had insisted to your brothers that they bring you to a marketplace that was in town, and they reluctantly relented and brought you. But now you couldn’t find them and the panic was starting to set in.
You gasped, whipping around when you felt a hand on your shoulder and were met with the sight of an unfamiliar man.
“Let go of me!” You demanded immediately, squirming out of his hold.
He raised his hands automatically, backing away from you, “Sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “You didn’t scare me,” You grumbled.
“Hey, it’s alright. I work for your brothers.” He reassured you, but even though it was supposed to comfort you, it only made you even more suspicious of him.
Slowly, you took a step away from the stranger, ready to make a run for it, when the sound of thundering footsteps made you turn to your right, all your brothers rushing over to where you were.
“Oh, thank god,” John mumbled, coming to a stop and running a hand down his face when he saw you safe and sound.
“Daryl,” Tommy greeted, clearly knowing the man, “I am now in your debut. Thank you for taking care of her.”
The man, Daryl, tipped his hat to Tommy and shot you a playful wink, “‘twas my pleasure, boss. Just lucky I was in the area and saw her before anyone else did.”
You're home with your own
“You’re doin’ it wrong!” You insisted with a whine, bringing your foot down and stomping against the floor once.
“I’m following the directions!” Finn snapped back, “How am I doin’ it wrong if I’m following the directions?”
“You ain’t, though! You’re addin’ too much chocolate chips and not enough flour!” You were beginning to lose your temper with your brother.
He simply shrugged, “I don’t see the problem with havin’ any extra chocolate.” He tried to reason.
You dropped your head to the counter with a groan, “We need to make them special! We can’t do that if you don’t follow the recipe.”
Finn seemed to contemplate it for a moment before rolling his eyes with a sigh and beginning to undo what he had done, “Fine, we’ll follow your borin’ cookie recipe.”
“What’re you two doing?”
You both shrieked and whipped around at the sudden voice, coming face to face with Tommy, who had a single eyebrow raised in your direction.
“Makin’ cookies,” Your brother answered dumbly.
“No!” You shrieked, reaching over and slapping his arm, “It was supposed to be a surprise!”
The boy scowled, reaching up to rub the sore spot of where you had hit, “Not much of a secret, anyone could see what we’re doing.”
Tommy looked amused by the scene before him and put his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step out of the kitchen, “Just act like I wasn’t even ‘ere.”
You eagerly jumped on the opportunity and began shooing Finn back to what he was supposed to be doing to prepare the dessert.
When company's expected, you’re well protected
Tears silently ran down your cheeks as Polly held you close with a hand resting over your mouth, keeping you from making any noise to notify anyone of your presence.
A group of men had broken into your house while your brothers were out on business and began ransacking it. Your aunt had pulled you into a closet with her as soon as she had gotten wind of what was happening and hid the two of you behind an old pile of jackets.
“Shh, hush now,” She whispered as quietly as possible into your ear, “It’s alrigh’. We’re gonna be alrigh’.”
The walls muffled the exact words being spoken by the group of men, but you could still hear their voices and the sounds of their footsteps getting nearer and nearer to your hiding place.
“-thought you said the kid and old lady were still here,” You heard one of them grunt, meaning that they were a lot closer than before.
Polly held you tighter to her chest at his words.
“They are, I’ve been scouting outside this place all day and neither one of them has left.” A new voice shot back.
“Check the closets,” A third voice said, making you whimper softly.
Just then light poured into your small space, temporarily blinding you the second the door was roughly thrown open. Polly was quick to move you behind her, using her body as a shield against your own.
“I found them-“ He was cut off by the sound of multiple gunshots going off at once that automatically made your ears begin ringing, making it near impossible to hear anything else.
Slowly, you tried to peek around your aunt's body, but she quickly pushed you behind her once more, “Don’t look.” You could barely make out her words over the constant ringing.
“Giver ‘er ‘ere, Pol.” A voice- Tommy’s, you think- spoke through the haze, and you were carefully passed into the arms of your older brother, who maneuvered you in such a way that you couldn’t see the body’s that lay scattered all over the room, your other brothers standing over them to ensure that the job was done.
“You’re alright,” He whispered soothingly in your ear, striding out of the room with you as you desperately gasped for air and gripped onto his shirt like a lifeline, “You’re alright, I’ve gotcha now, I’ve gotcha.”
Sure, you’ve had scares in the past- it came with the line of work your family was in- but nothing compared to the heart gripping terror you experienced for the first time that day.
Of course, your family saved you just in time, though. Just like they always did.
Then you are set with a capital J
“Well, don’t you look fancy,” Arthur commented as you happily skipped into the kitchen.
You giggled a bit with a nod of your head, moving past where he and John sat at the table to grab and apple from the counter.
“What’s the occasion?” Your other brother piped up, glancing up from his own breakfast.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes teasingly at the two men, “I don’t need a reason to dress up,” You informed them, “I’m going to school! All the girls dress up now at school!”
John’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, and you’re doin’ what all the other girls are doin’ now?”
A hum left your lips as you floated over, placing a kiss on each of their cheeks before joyfully leaving the room.
Tommy entered just as you were leaving, receiving a large bear hug from you before you continued on your way, singing a song quietly to yourself.
“I don’ think I’ve ever seen anyone that happy to be goin’ to school.” The man commented.
“Tommy… I’ve just had an awful realization,” Arthur looked up at his brother with wide eyes, taking his little brothers raised eyebrow as a sign to continue, “I thinks n/n is growin’ up.”
“And what makes ya say that?”
“She’s goin’ to school all dressed up becuase it’s what all the other girls be doin’ now,” Arthur was talking with a horrified look on his face, “And I don’t like it, Tommy.”
The man rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, “She’s just dressing up a bit, Arthur, it’s not the end of the world. You can start worryin’ when she comes around talkin’ about boys, eh?”
“Boys?” Arthur paled even more, “I didn’ even think of that part.”
Which you'll never forget ‘til they cart you away
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” John asked softly, worry painting his features as he immediately dropped onto the couch next to you.
You had your head in your hands and tears were falling down your cheeks when you looked up, startled by your older brother's presence. You hadn’t thought anyone was home.
“John,” You immediately moved to wipe your tears away, but he gently caught your wrists, halting your movements.
“What’s wrong?” He asked again, making sure he was looking you in the eyes as he spoke.
You sniffled slightly, shrugging harshly and trying to avert your gaze from his.
“Y/n,” He prompted, “I just wanna help ya.”
A sigh fell through your lips and you realized that it wouldn't hurt to just tell him, there was nothing he could do to change it anyway.
“A couple girls were making fun of me in school today.” You whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself as you spoke, “I was called on for a question on the homework and I got it wrong.”
His eyebrows set in a furrow, “So they made fun of ya for it?”
You nodded tearfully, biting down on your lip and dropping your head in defeat.
“Hey, hey,” He cooed softly, gently taking your chin and moving it so you were looking at him again, “Wanna know what I want ya to do?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, “I want ya to go back to school tomorrow and show those girls exactly who they’re dealing with.”
It was then your turn to allow your eyebrows to dip in confusion, “Who?”
“You.” A smile tugged at his lips, “You’re a Peaky fuckin’ Blinder and nobody gets away with messing with one of them.”
You smiled now, tears having stopped springing from your eyes, “I’m a Peaky Blinder.” You repeated.
He grinned, reaching over ruffling your hair affectionately, “And don’ ya ever forget it.”
When you're a Jet, you stay a Jet
“Happy Birthday,” Tommy smiled one of his rare, real smiles with an even rarer twinkle in his eyes, “I hope ya like it.”
You were finally fourteen, and your whole family was gathered around the living room to celebrate, passing gifts upon gifts into your arms.
A gasp escaped from your lips as you opened the lid to the box and peered inside, “I-it,” You choked out, “It’s wonderful.”
You gently placed it to the side and sprang forward, throwing your arms around your brother's neck and bringing him in for a tight hug.
“All right, all right,” He said playfully, “Try it on now.”
Carefully, with the rest of your family gazing at you in wonder, you took out your very own Shelby family, Peaky Blinders cap.
Something that looked much like a distant memory flashed over Arthur and John’s faces instantly the second you placed it upon your head.
“Do ya remember when-“ John began, and Arthur nodded.
“When what?” You echoed in curiosity, looking at a nearby mirror and adjusting your new present.
“When the last time you wore one of those, it was too damn big for your own head,” Arthur laughed loudly at the memory.
Tommy chuckled fondly, “I remember.”
You looked over your shoulder and gave them wide grins, causing their hearts to squeeze tightly at the deja vu they were getting from seeing you like that.
When you're a Jet you’re the top cat in town
“M-Miss. Shelby,” A store owner stuttered out as soon as you opened the door to his bakery.
“Morning, sir.” You greeted kindly, having learned a long time ago not to take his fear to heart. No matter how nice you tried to be to people, no one was able to see past your family name. And oftentimes, you wouldn’t even complain.
“I- I have some freshly baked cakes!” His eyes widened at his own realization before quickly scrambling into the back and coming back less than a moment later with the treats in hand.
You shot him a smile, picking them up after he slid them along to counter towards you before reaching for your pocket for some money.
“Oh, oh no, Miss. Shelby.” He shook his head, “It’s on the house.”
A frown pulled on your lips, “But, sir-“
“It’s the least I could do,” He insisted, “Please, just take it.”
Hesitantly, you nodded before thanking him and making your way out of the store. Of course, this wasn’t even the first time something like this had happened to you or any other one of your siblings.
While you found it slightly worrisome, Finn found it downright hilarious.
You're the gold-medal kid, with the heavyweight crown
“Hey, oi, Johnny boy,” Arthur whispered, making the man look up from the newspaper in his lap, eyes following to where his older brother had inclined his head.
He felt a smile slowly grow on his face when he realized what he was looking at.
You were cuddled up between some pillows under a blanket on the couch nearby to them with an open book in your lap and your head dropped lazily to the side, having fallen asleep while reading.
“Should I wake her?” Finn asked mischievously from his seat beside John, who reached up and gave the boy a good whack on the back of the head, “I was only jokin’.” He grumbled.
“Let ‘er sleep,” Arthur said quietly, “Besides, she looks so peaceful right now.”
When you're a Jet, you’re the swingin'est thing
“I will push you in, Finn Shelby, don’t test me,” You warned as the two of you walked side by side on a bridge that hung a couple feet above the river.
The boy snickered, playfully shoving his shoulder against yours, “I’d like to see you try.”
A wicked glint settled in your eye, but it was gone before Finn could have been able to see it.
Deciding to wait until he let his guard down again, you allowed a few moments to pass in silence as you walked side by side, pretending to study the water.
Then, without giving him so much as a slight warning, you used all your force and sent him flying into the water down below.
You were holding onto your stomach and doubling over while cackling by the time he resurfaced, jaw dropped and a look of betrayal on his face, “Look whatcha did!” He complained.
“Oops,” You giggled before making your way over to the edge and sticking out your hand to help you up, feeling only a little bit bad about what you did.
He swam over to you and took your outstretched hand, but instead of using it to pull himself out like you thought he would, he yanked down on it hard, sending you toppling right after him into the freezing water.
You gasped as soon as you resurfaced, and he was now the one laughing at the look on your face, “That’s what you get!” He cheered.
Glaring at him slightly, you hit your hands against the surface, sending a big wave straight into his face.
He sat there, frozen for a moment, before slowly turning to face you fully and splashing you right back in the face.
Little boy, you're a man, little man, you're a king
You couldn’t help the wide smile that grew on your face as soon as you sat down at the table. All around you, your brothers and aunt chatted loudly amongst themselves whilst enjoying the first dinner you had all together in a couple of months.
“What’s got ya smilin’ over there?” Tommy asked from beside you.
“Just really happy that we’re all together right now,” You replied without so much as allowing your smile to falter.
His lips twitched upwards, “Yeah, me too, sweetheart. Me too.”
Shelby Family 💚- @kiyomi-uchiha777
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Some Sunny Day
[Platonic Drabble]
c/w: angst, depictions of trauma and injury, character death, no gendered terms used to describe reader
a/n: I couldn’t help it, the part two of the Spider-Venom reader is in the works and is being written and edited consistently and progressively, but this was inspired by me feeling in the shits about my trauma so.. here we are lol
—
[Unedited]
We’ll meet again
You hadn’t given much thought to how you would die, not ever really considering the thousands of possibilities that would result in the loss of your life. Never really finding the consideration of those pathways important enough to think about long enough.
Don’t know where, don’t know when
Perhaps you should have— maybe this wouldn’t be happening otherwise. That’s a lie, because death is inevitable.. it was coming for you one way or another. Perhaps it wasn’t you trying to trick yourself into believing you could avoid it— but prepare yourself for it instead. Had you considered all possibilities of death then maybe you could’ve prepared yourself for the painful one you had come to face.
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day
It did not announce itself, did not trumpet it’s arrival. It had been silent, quiet in the darkness as it coiled itself around your throat pulling you off your feet. By the time you had seen it coming.. it had already set it’s teeth.
Keep smiling through
You didn’t wish for anyone to be sad for you, it was a good life you had lived. Sure, it didn’t start out too great but it had been decent.. and then it had turned for the better when you had found them.
Just like you always do
You didn’t want anyone to force their lives to a screeching halt for your sake, that wasn’t fair.. and you knew that regardless of what you had thought— they would celebrate your life everyday from here on out. Now settled in the acceptance of grief, the stage that had come after a long and painful endurance through denial, anger, bargaining and depression.
‘Till the blue sky drives the dark clouds far away
They had felt such a dark and heavy cloud hanging over them since your death, and they had grown accustomed to it. Not bothering to address the way all of them were feeling about losing you. Suppress it down and ignore the searing ache in their chests —they believe— being the best way to overcome it and grow forward.
But you knew that was utter bullshit and you had wished they knew that too. Ignoring it will only make it worse, because ignorance allows the pain to linger. And if it lingers long enough it will fester and grow into a raging inferno that will swallow them whole.
Only in acceptance could they move forward, only in accepting that you were gone could they move on. Grow past it and become stronger together. And you believed they could, they just had to let themselves do it in their own time— at their own pace.
And eventually, that dense and weighted cloud overhanging them would be driven away.
So will you please say hello
You were Miguel O’hara’s eldest. And you had been with him through everything, after the loss of your younger sister the two of you couldn’t overcome the grief that had overwhelmed you both. And in the wake of that dimension’s destruction— there had been a wedge driven in between you and him.
Your relationship, previously stronger than any trial or tribulation life had thrown your way, had shattered to pieces. And you had attempted to at least pick up the shambles and put your bond back together.. but you had met a wall every time. A wall your father had built around himself to protect his broken heart and vulnerable soul from ever being touched again.
He hadn’t made an effort.. so you figured you shouldn’t either, and just accepted the turn of his back on top of the ache you felt at the loss of your younger sibling. The weight of guilt at killing all those innocent people had become the icing on this shit cake.
To the folks that I know
It was hard for you to grow past what had happened, because you were doing it on your own. In the wake of it all, it was you and only you trying to mend yourself back together. What hurt the most was that you had depended on your father to be there for you.. you had expected that this would only make your relationship stronger. Not tear it apart.
And it was naive of you to think such a thing, childish and ignorant of you to dispose of your initial thoughts that he would react this way. Because maybe if you had you’d have been far more prepared to take the bullet that his neglectful response had fired at you.
In the end of it all —the final steps you had taken to improve yourself— you had developed a fierce sense of independence. Nobody has your back better than you. And that was the unfortunate and heartbreaking truth that you had faced head on, it was a hard pill to swallow but it was necessary for you to move forward.
You garbled a cough, the gob of blood previously sitting in your throat jacked up to spill down your chin.
You grunted as the pressure in your chest grew exponentially, the rebar pierced through your chest causing an uncomfortable sensation to sit heavy beneath your ribs.
Tell them I won’t be long
The young teenagers who have come to adopt you as their elder sibling will be heartbroken. You knew that well, and you hoped that you father had picked up on the subtlety in your message to not reveal you were dying.
They wouldn’t take it well, and you knew they would follow your father to this dimension. The last thing you wanted was for them to experience more loss than they needed at their age. You couldn’t help that though, this was going to court one way or the other. What you could control was them being there in your final moments.. you had thought that maybe it’d go down easier if your father just told them you had gone peacefully.
They’ll be happy to know
It certainly would’ve been easier for them than seeing you impaled through the chest and coughing up the blood that had begun to slowly fill your lungs.
They’d at least have some semblance of peace within the grief and pain they’d feel that you didn’t go in pain. Regardless of the fact that this was easily the worst experience you have ever had the misfortune of dealing with. But they didn’t need to know that nor did they need to see you like this.
That as you saw me go, you saw me singing this song
When your father had finally arrived he had rushed to you immediately, his mask peeling away as he approached and dropped to his knees at your side.
“No, no no no, not again. Please no.”
“Dad…”
“Shhh,” he encouraged softly, “don’t talk. Save your strength, I’m going to get you out of here.”
“It’s too late.”
He didn’t listen to the way you quietly murmured those words, their execution breathed on a plane of exhausted agony. Your heart’s rhythm slowly fading from it’s previous thunderous beat in your ears. Slowing as it gradually eased itself into a state of utter still and silence, not having enough strength to continue to keep you alive.
Miguel wouldn’t let this happen again, he refused. As he thought of the best way he could move you he thought back to when you both had come back from the dimension that had unraveled. How he had shut you out, built barbed barriers thick and tall— and left you on the outside of them.
At the remembrance an abrupt ripple of regret shucked down his back, it made the blood in his veins turn bitterly cold. It was regret that was soon joined by grief that settled in his heart, heavy as lead sinking through his chest at the prospect that you would not make it.
And he suddenly felt knots tighten themselves up in the gaping in his stomach, because he didn’t even know what the right thing to do was. He couldn’t accept this, he couldn’t.. not again. But you were in pain, certainly worse than anything you’ve ever experienced. Not only that, but you were certain it was far too late for you.
He knew if he pulled you off that thick rebar pipe you would immediately bleed to death, if he left you on there you would die of a broken heart. Literally— the rebar had punctured through your heart and lung. Now both metaphorically and physically torn apart.
“It’s too late dad.”
“Please—”
You reached up to him, cupping his cheek as he laid his hand against your own. You lifted your opposite hand to hold his wrist as he brushed his gloved thumb over your bloodied and bruised cheek.
“Please no, not like this.. please there’s too much.. too much I have to do to show you I love you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to shut you out mi amor I’m sorry—”
You did to him the same thing he had done to you seconds prior and interrupted by brushing your gloved thumb over his angular cheekbone. You felt the familiar sting in your eyes and burn in your nose as you watched him. His eyes broken and devastated, the windows into his soul wide open as his defenses crumbled. His brows taut together and a hurt frown tugging his lips down.
“It’s okay,” you promised giving him the only smile you could manage. Soft and small— but full of all the love a young child has for their father. “It’s going to be okay.”
Miguel couldn’t contain the pain he was feeling a moment longer, and his ache had erupted in the form of the rivulets of tears gliding down his cheeks. And he listened intently to them as they spoke, holding them in his arms as best he could with the rebar through their chest. Still holding their face and leaning down to press their foreheads together, he internally wept at the way theirs felt colder.
“We’ll meet again,” you promised smiling up at him as he held you in his arms and kept your foreheads together. “I don’t know where, and I don’t know when.” You felt the way your heart continued to slow, the pressure on your chest increasing dramatically as exhaustion began. “But I know we’ll meet again—”
Finally the injuries had grown to be far too much, and you had only wished you had told him how much you truly loved him no matter what. How much you had understood his feelings and how you had already forgiven him for the toxic way he had decided to cope. Breathing felt like too much work, needing extensive energy that you no longer had.
Your heart gave up first, and the very last thing you saw before the black that had been seeping in from the edges consumed you entirely— was your father looking you in the eyes with the love you had craved from him since the loss of your sister. Your lungs followed after, and Miguel only sobbed harder at the way your chest rose, then fell, rose once again.. and fell.
He felt sick and angry at himself for the way things had gone, the regret he’d felt since the destruction of that universe was abruptly more pronounced in his chest. And he wept over your body, long since gone cold, as he completed the promise you had made to him. Whispered against the skin of your cheek —cold to the touch— and lost of all color and vibrant life held within.
“Some sunny day.”
—
a/n: when this was being written I was listening to life eternal by ghost and it just encouraged me to put as much ouchies in this as I possibly could so I killed ya!
#across the spider verse#spiderverse#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x platonic! reader#platonic reader#platonic relationships#platonic imagine
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May I request the moon knight system (or just Jake Lockley if you only plan to write for one person at a time) pretty much adopting a teen reader who’s the avatar of Seth (god if chaos)? Maybe the reader is very awkward and shy at first, but once you get to know them and they feel comfortable around you, the reader shows you their bubbly chaotic side? (Platonic ofc!!)
Summary: Just as you were losing hope, Jake Lockley agrees to adopt you, a young destructive teen who's unknowingly the avatar of Seth, the god of chaos.
Pairing: Jake Lockley x (platonic) Adopted Teen Reader
Words: 3.1k
Content Warnings: Insecurity, self deprication, rejection, crying, parental abandoment, panic, implied emotional abuse, minor wounds.
A/N: Jake is a good guy in this, it's wholesome :)
GIF CAPTION - "I'm sure we can figure somethin' out kid"
Ever since you were a child, you had been an absolute ball of chaos. You were the destructive, clumsy, hyper, uncoordinated kid. You were always breaking something, causing some sort of commotion or jumping around chaotically.
What you didn't know was that you were the unwilling Avatar of Seth, the Egyptian God of Chaos. Your parents had pledged their allegience to Seth in the past in exchange for power, but they soon realised that the deal they struck was not as ideal as they had hoped. After trying every possible option to back out of their deal, they took the cowards way out, leaving you alone, with the burden of eventually completing Seths demands.
Seth had been with you since you were very young. Every since you had been abandoned at the orphanage, Seth had followed and loomed over you almost constantly. He wasn't a patient God, and as much as he wanted your devotion, he needed to wait until you were old enough to complete his wishes. Your parents left their duties to you, he'd wait until you were capable of completing them.
As you grew older, you became more aware of yourself and others. You noticed that other kids your age didn't seem as destructive as you, they were careful and calculated and didn't seem to destroy everything they touched.
You became extremely insecure of yourself, as the difference between you and everyone else became highlighted more and more. You tried your best to tone back your often bubbly personality. You focussed more on your actions, carefully trying to do things as everyone else did, without any destruction. But as much as you attempted to tame the chaos, you always ended up clumsily breaking or ruining something.
You knew destruction was ingrained in you by the time you were a teenager. You didn't know it was because of a lurking Egypian God, but you knew for sure that it made you an undesirable candidate for adoption or any type of fostering.
You had been in and out of homes, most people feeling that you were too much of a burden because of your clumsy habits. No matter how much potential adoptees said they could handle any child with their needs, they always ended up giving up because of your unavoidable destruction.
You had given up hope of being adopted into a nice loving family in your mid teens. It was clear there was something wrong with you, you just didn't know what. You thought maybe you were cursed. Maybe some you had broken a mirror or something when you were a kid and now you had perpetual bad luck. Whatever the case was, you had accepted that you were unwanted.
Suprisingly, you were told someone was interested in adopting a kid around your age. It had been months since the last inquiry. You weren't expecting much.
You were taken to the potenial adoptee's house by a member of the orphanage. You were greeted kindly at the door
"Hey, you must be y/n, right?" he said, gesturing for you to enter.
You nodded smally, putting your hands in your pockets, tensely walking in, head down and watching carefully where to step in fear of ruining this persons home. You stood still in the middle of the room while he walked around casually.
"Well I'm Jake, I'm sure they already explained it to ya, but I've been considerin' adoption for quite some time. I'm happy to give you a home here if you'd like, course it'll be completely your decision if you'd like to stay, but you can have a look around if you'd like," he explains.
You just continue to stand still, slightly glancing around at the home. It was nice, seemed pretty warm and safe. A nice warm safe environment that you'd end up ruining - you were sure of it. You just sighed to yourself, closing up and making yourself smaller.
"Would you like me to show you around?" he offered considerately. You just shrugged.
"Alright, well over here is the kitchen area. All the basics of course," he said, you looked over as he gestured to the kitchen.
"I've got an impressive record collection over here. I love the classics." You looked to see a bunch of classic rock posters on the wall and a few stacks of records next to a record player. You smiled softly, recognising some of the artists.
"Through here is the livin' area," he said. You carefully and quietly stepped after him into a different room. "Couch, tv, cool blankets," he said, holding up a blanket with a cat pattern on it. "Custom made. Maybe we can get you a custom blanket if you decide to stay, huh? Sound like a good idea?" he inquired.
"Maybe..." you said softly. Though admittedly, it did sound genuinly nice. But if your adoptive history was anything to go by, this guy wouldn't last more than a few months looking after you, so there wouldn't be much point looking forward to it.
"This is my cat, Felisa." he picks up his cat, showing her to you. "She's friendly," he hints, letting you know its okay to pet the cat.
You lean forward a bit, looking at the cat in his arms, your eyes curious and intrigued. You had stayed away from animals for so many years, you didn't want to hurt them. This cat looked nice and fluffy, your hand twitching in your pocket as you felt the urge to pet it. But your insecurity held you back. You stepped away.
"She's fluffy," you commented quietly. He nodded, casually putting her back down onto the couch where Felisa streched out before settling down. He moved on, opening a door to another room
"Back here is the spare room. It's pretty empty cause I'm not sure what you like and that. But we can make it look however ya want, it'll be fully your space." He was right, it was basically just an empty room with a spare bed, bookshelf and desk. It was nice to think of the possibilities of what it could look like, but you couldn't imagine for long, the reality was that it wouldn't last.
You turned to step out of the room, quickly coming to a halt as your forehead ran into Jakes hand.
"Careful kid, don't want ya to get hurt," he said as you stepped back, rubbing your forehead and discretely covering your embarassed expression.
"Sorry," you mumbled. You had been going so well, but of course you clumsily almost walk into the doorframe like an idiot. You look at the ground in shame.
"All good. Just an accident," he said nonchalantly, not seeming to mind too much that you just stupidly walked into something in clear sight. At least he noticed though, otherwise that would of hurt quite a bit.
After he showed you around, you went back to the orphanage to speak about your thoughts. He seemed nice, you were just sure it wouldn't last. But maybe, maybe you'd give adoption one more chance.
The first few weeks living with Jake were the usual. You were awkward and quiet, shy and reserved. When you were younger, your bubbly personality would deter people, so you learned to just supress that part of your self the majority of the time. You couldn't risk Jake seeing you being yourself, not when he had just welcomed you into his home.
As for your clumsiness, uncoordination and overall destructive nature, Jake actually seemed to be handling it pretty well. Of course, you'd always try your best not to break anything, moving as carefully as you could, but it was inevitable. You ruined things. But it turned out that Jake had amazing reflexes, nothing like you'd ever seen before. It was like he had a sixth sense, and just before disaster struck he'd put out his hand, move something, or grab whatever was needed to avoid anything breaking.
You were absolutely shocked at the ability. The amount of things you'd dropped accidently or knocked over and he'd suddenly caught was impressive. So far, you hadn't broken anything, thanks to Jake's help.
Though you couldn't help but feel bad. Was your clumsiness putting him on edge? Did he always need to be aware around you just incase you stupidly almost broke his things?
Even though your insecurity was loud, you also noticed a sense of hope growing within you. If Jake was able to stop you breaking things, would there be a possibility that he'd let you stay with him? Like....forever?
A month went by and things had been good. You were just as clumsy, but there hadn't been any major disasters like there usually is when you stay with a different family.
That was until your fears came true and you inevitably ruined someone elses belongings. That being one of Jake's glass cups. It may seem trivial, but such a mistake had led other families to reject you in the past.
You simply wanted to get some water while Jake looked for a movie for you both to watch, when the glass slipped from your hand, smashing onto the ground into many pieces.
You paused, eyes widening in horror as you realised what you had just done. A wave of fear travelled through your body as you dropped onto your knees and began trying to collect all the broken pieces of glass before he could see. Your mentally cursed at yourself for your clumsiness. You should of known this would happen.
"You alright, kid?" you hear Jakes concerned voice as he comes into the kitchen.
"Yes! No problem here!" you call out, voice shaking as you continued to try clear the mess on the kitchen floor, not caring if the glass was hurting you.
"I just heard a smash, did somethin' happen?"
"No! Nothing at all!" you try convince him. But he walked in and saw you on the ground, rushing to hide your mistake. He was definitely more concerned at how distressed you seemed over this than the fact that his cup was broken. He tried to ease your worries.
"Just a cup? That's alright kid, accidents happen-"
"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to break it, it just slipped from my hand and- and-," tears began to well in your eyes as the acceptance that you'd be rejected again set in. You sunk lower to the floor.
"It's okay if you don't w-want me anymore, I understand! It's okay. I break e-everything I touch. I don't know why I'm like this! I'm going to ruin everything you have so it's better if I just leave now, before I destroy all your things," you sniffled through tears.
Jake knealed down, avoiding the broken glass on the floor between the two of you.
"Take a breath kid, you're alright. It's just a cup, nothin' that can't be easily replaced," he said softly. You did as he said, trying to calm yourself with a breath as you sniffled and wiped the tears from your eyes. Jake looked to you genuinely.
"Something like this isn't going to make me want you any less, truely, kid."
"But I broke it...." you whispered.
"It's all fine. Just an accident. I've broken plenty of things in this house," he relates to you. Everyone was clumsy now and then, but you were destructive on a whole different level. "How about we clean this up?" he proposes calmly, standing to grab a dustpan.
You just watched with wide eyes as he casually walked back and began sweeping up the glass on the floor. He hadn't yelled at you yet. Hadn't critised you for your mistake. Hadn't threatened to kick you out and hadn't said he didn't want you anymore. Instead he helped clean up the mess. You couldn't sense any judgement coming from him because of your mistake, that was new to you.
He finished cleaning up the glass as you stood silently, cautiously waiting for his next words and what they would mean for you.
He turned to you and smiled softly.
"All done," he stated before grabbing the small medical box he kept at the top of one of the cupboards. All done? How was he being so casual? Was he really just going to move on from this?
"You'll need a couple bandaids, glass must've scratched your hands a bit," he said, gesturing to your slightly bloody hands. You hadn't even noticed you'd hurt yourself, you were too focussed on hiding your mistake that it didn't even matter in the moment. It wasn't too bad, but Jake still wanted to make sure you were okay.
He carefully washed the blood from your hands under the tap, making sure there was no glass in your skin.
"I broke your cup...." you whispered in shame, not being able to move past your mistake.
"It's not a big deal, kid. It's all been cleaned up now," he says, still remaining so calm and non-judgemental. He began placing some bandaids on your hands.
"But I'll break other things as well.....it always happens....it's just how I am," you admit sadly. "It's why no one wants me....even though I try so hard not to be, I'm just destructive."
Jake looked at you, his face unhappy. His dissapointment in humanity was showing. He couldn't believe that people had made you feel unwanted for something as simple as a mistake.
"I'm not gonna throw you out for this, kid. I'd never do somethin' like that, I promise," he assures you. You nod hesitantly.
"And hey, if you're really worried about breaking stuff, why don't we change some things around the house so you don't have to stress all the time?" he suggested.
"Change stuff? Like what?" you ask nervously.
"How about some reusable plastic cups, plates and bowls? I'm fine with packing away some of the stuff around the house if you're scared of knocking it over. And we can replace anything delicate so that you don't need to worry about damaging it. We can bubble wrap or add padding to some of the edges and corners so that you won't get hurt. That would benefit both of us I think, I've run into this island bench way too often," he laughed softly.
You listened in suprise as he voiced his willingness to compromise instead of simply sending you away again. Instead of demonising your destruction and clumsiness, he was already thinking of solutions to make you feel more comfortable living with him.
"And if something does end up broken, we can deal with it. Humans make mistakes, things break, I won't make a big out of it, I promise."
".....promise....?" you ask unsurely. Should you trust his words after everything that had happened to you in the past?
His genuine smile assures you as he nods. Maybe he really was telling the truth and maybe he really would accept you for who you are.
All you could do now, was trust him and hope for the best.
After making some changes around Jake's house and some trial and error, you two had come up with various solutions to your clumsiness. Things seemed to be working and you were happier than ever. You felt as if staying here, with Jake, for a long time could be an actual possibility.
Of course, things were still chaotic sometimes, but there were measures in place to stop anything from breaking, so you didn't have to constantly be in high alert. It was nice to just be present, feel safe and be yourself. It was such an unfamilar feeling, but you welcomed it gladly.
Infact, you're chaotic tendancies had turned into an enjoyable time for you and an amusing time for Jake.
You and his cat, Felisia, had matched eachothers energy, and some times you both just chased eachother around the house, having care free fun. Not to mention the frequent meow offs you two had.
Each day, you felt more and more like yourself, like who you really were. You had lost yourself over the years, hiding your personality in fear of criticism, but being around Jake helped bring the best out of you.
You felt safe to speak your mind about anything and everything, and Jake happily and attentively listened, no matter how big or how small the thing was you were speaking of was. Seeing you authentically express your excitement had become one of Jake's favourite things.
You found yourself becoming more comfortable in your own body. You didn't feel like a hazard or a danger in the house because you didn't have much need to worry anymore, and it helped ease the constant tension you used to carry around with you. You were more relaxed, more expressive, more yourself.
Things had actually turned out perfectly. You had never expected to find belonging, and yet here you were, feeling the best you had ever felt with your new adoptive parent. You had a feeling that Jake was going to stick around for a very long time, and that's all you wanted, this was everything you had ever wanted.
You had been living together for a year now, and you couldn't wish for anything more.
You thanked Jake often, but you felt as if you had never really thanked him for everything he had done for you.
It was a sunny afternoon, you two had just arrived home after a happy picnic at the local park. You were sitting on the couches in the living room, the sun from the window illuminating you both. You gently pet a sleepy Felicia beside you, looking over to see Jake, his eyes closed, a content and relaxed smile on his face as he leaned back onto the couch.
Everything felt right.
You leaned back onto the couch as well, sighing softly as Felicia stretched and snuggled to your side. You took in the moment.
After a little while, Jake slowly stood up, heading over to the kitchen.
"I'm gonna get dinner going," he said softly. Your eyes followed him as he stretched his arms into the air, stretching after sitting down for a bit.
You leaped up without hesitation and wrapped your arms around him tightly. He stumbled back a step in shock, his arms hovering over you as he tried to get a look at your expression as you squished your face against his jacket.
"Woah kid, you alright?" he voices, worried you were upset. You nod against him and he pats your shoulders gently, feeling relieved that you were okay.
"Thank you....for everything......" you whisper. He smiles to himself, looking down at you.
"Of course kiddo," he pats your back affectionately.
"This is everything I ever could of hoped for," you admit. Jake nods in agreement, genuinly thinking the same about you.
"This is everything I could of hoped for too kid," he says softly, hugging you back securely.
~~~
A/N: Okay. So. Um. I guess it's been a while huh?......Um....yeah. Turns out life gets kind of busy when you're working and studying your first semester of University at the same time.
I hope I didn't change it too much and that it is enough like the request! I chose to just write for Jake, hope thats alright! I wasn't too confident on how to write his dialogue, but I imagined it as a sort of New York accent, feel free to read it however you'd like to though.
I've honestly got very little experience with the adoption system, so I tried to speak of it vaguely, but if theres any obvious issues, let me know and I'll be happy to change them to be more accurate.
Also I totally forgot I was supposed to be inlcuding Seth in the story. Maybe a part 2 where she comes of age and Seth starts giving her orders. Perhaps Jake can help her out since he's also enslaved to Khonshu???
Second semester of University is starting up soon, so I'll probably dissapear for a long time again. Hope I'll be back at some point though :)
I'm more active on my art Instagram, if you'd like to follow its @/sadly_a_ghost
Have a wonderful week :)
-Ghosty
#moon knight#moon knight fanfiction#moon knight imagine#moon knight platonic#moon knight fic#moon knight x reader#moon knight series#marc spector#steven grant#jake lockley#jake lockley fanfic#jake lockley fanfiction#jake lockley imagine#platonic#platonic imagine#platonic fanfiction#jake lockley platonic#fanfiction#angst#fluff#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley x you
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Please do!
Hi I was thinking if you could do aizawa having a sibling or daughter. Like a younger sister or daughter who he teaches and do some type of angst with them. Like him not paying much attention to her or she’s caught doing something (like smoking,drugs) or both. Something like that. Thank you 😊
Main Masterlist ~ MHA Masterlist ~ #2
How Would You Know Anymore?! - Aizawa x Sister! Reader
1354 words
+ You're the younger sister of Shota and ended up being in his class. You weren't expecting any special treatment at all but Shota was acting like you didn't even exist or was on the verge of being too harsh. No inbetween. You eventually start to act out and threaten your own position in class 1-A.
Quirk: Can temporarily cancel or stun someone's quirk by touching them. As you train, the amount of time the person is without their quirk is lengthened. Eventually, you'll be able to control how much time it is.
~
Y/N's POV
I was sitting at my desk, tapping my pen on the desktop. I was staring off into space while everyone was working on our English homework. A hand slammed down on top of mine, effectively stopping my tapping. I glanced to see it was Bakugou who wasn't even looking at me.
"Cut that out. It's annoying." He muttered while still working. I sighed and dropped my pen when he took his hand away.
"Y/N?" I looked up to see Hizashi looking up at me. He waved me up to his desk. I got up and walked up to him. I could see the concern in his eyes as he talked quietly. "What's up? You seem distracted. A lot lately."
"I've just a little out of it lately." I whispered.
"Do you know why?"
"Yeah. But I don't want to talk about it." I said.
"Would you want to talk about it with Shota?" I barely held back the scoff. I shook my head. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Fine. Head back to your desk."
"Yes sir."
Later, the class was out on the training field and Shota was giving some evaluations. He was going through everyone, giving detailed instructions, until he got to me last. He just gave me a look before speaking.
"Needs improvement." He said before walking away. I stared at him in shock before throwing my arms up in frustration.
"That's it?!" I yelled. He stopped and looked at me.
"Is there a problem?" He glared at me.
"Problem? Like you would know! For real!" I snapped. He didn't say anything and I scoffed. I turned and stormed towards the locker room.
"I haven't dismissed you!" He yelled.
"I don't give a fuck!" I replied without looking back. Knowing my brother, I knew he would use his capture weapon. I timed it and dodge rolled out of the way just in time and continued walking.
I got changed quickly and speed walked to my secret spot in the school. It was a small nook outside out of sight from prying eyes that I come to when I need to de-stress or wind down from the day. I plopped down and pulled out the hidden pack of cigarettes. I light one and take a drag. I will admit, my methods of de-stressing has changed drastically since school started. Since my brother started acting like I was that spot on the mirror you ignore until its absolutely annoying enough to clean.
I thought about the past few months. How things have changed and how this drift has come up between me and my brother. I cringed when I though about how disrespectful I've been to some of the teachers lately. I sat there for a while before a cough interrupted me.
"Shit." I looked up and saw Midnight with her arms crossed over her chest and a disappointed look on her face. "Hi, Midnight."
"Nezu's office. Now." She said firmly, holding out her hand. I set the carton of cigarettes in his hand.
"Yes ma'am." I put out the cigarette and walked towards Nezu's office. Midnight followed and explained everything to Nezu. I heard him call Shota and I internally groaned.
"I'm very disappointed in you, Y/N." Nezu said. I looked down ashamed. "Acting out, cussing out teachers, and now caught smoking on a strict no smoking campus."
"I'm sorry, sir." I said softly. The door burst open and I turned to see Shota.
"What's going on?" He asked with a stern look on his face.
"Aizawa, Y/N was caught smoking." Nezu said plainly.
"What? Y/N!" Shota turned to me with a mixture of emotions. "Are you serious?"
"What's the matter? You do it!" I snapped.
"Yes. But I am an adult. I also don't do it on school grounds. Y/N this is so unlike you."
"How would you know anymore?! It's not like you even pay attention anymore!" I glared. He paused and something flashed across his face. He turned and spoke to Nezu before looking at me.
"Come on. We're going home." He waved me on.
The trip home was silent. Inside it was ever worse. He went to the kitchen and grabbed two water bottles. He handed one to me. He sat down and sighed.
"What's going on?" He asked softly. I was surprised for a second but remembered who I was talking to. I sighed heavily and dropped down next to him.
"Ever since the Sports festival..." I started to explain. "You've basically been..." I trailed off.
"I've been..." He gently urged.
"You've been treating me like barely a blip on your radar. You barely treat me as an equal to the other students. I don't expect to be treated as your sister at school of course, but you don't even treat me like a worthy student."
"Y/N..." He sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees. He started rubbing his forehead. "I'm sorry."
"Really?" I was surprised he apologized so quickly.
"Yeah. I got so in my head about being careful to not treat you with any favoritism as my little sister that I took it too far and didn't even treat you like my student." He looked at me. "The incident at the USJ struck me with the reality that you were doing this and I couldn't accept it."
"Shota. I'm okay."
"I know." He sat up straight and pulled me into his side. I hugged him and he rubbed my arm. "I just never thought as you were growing up that you would follow in my footsteps."
"Are you kidding me?" I looked up at him." You were and are my hero Shota. Of course I would follow in your footsteps."
"Well you are not going to get to if you keep acting like you have been at school. I'm pretty sure Nezu had half a mind to suspend or expel you. And I know it was partially my fault but it needs to Stop now."
"You're right." I sighed, setting my head on his shoulder. "I'll do better if you do better."
"Deal." He said as he held out his hand. I took his and shook it. We sat there for a few minutes.
"Shota?"
"Yeah."
"How am I really doing? You know in training?" I asked hesitantly.
"You are improving very well. Of course there are things you need to work on. Like your footwork. You need to find your rhythm. I can help of course but you may ask Ojiro or Iida for some advice too."
"Thanks." He nodded before he stood up. He walked into his room before going and grabbing something out of his work bag. He held up the pack of cigarettes Midnight confiscated from me and his own pack.
"We both quit?" He asked. I smiled and nodded.
"For sure." I got up. He tossed them into the trash. I hugged him.
"I am sorry Sis. Really." He hugged me back. "Although, you have detention for the next two weeks though." I groaned.
"That's fair."
"And you're grounded for 2 weeks too."
"Seriously?!" I pulled away and looked at him.
"Yes." He looked at me, daring me to challenge him. I sighed heavily.
"That's fair too, I guess."
"You may get a break if you're good." He said. "You can start by... I don't know. Making your shrimp tacos with that tomatillo sauce for supper."
"Shota!" I could see him hiding a smile. "Real smooth. You're lucky I love you."
"Love you too, sis.”
Tag List: @iris-shihabi @cl0verbby @lilparcheesie @keigos-baby-bird @evilunicorns4minions
#imagine#imagines#my hero academia#mha x reader#mha#mha imagines#boku no hero academia#my hero academia imagines#bnha#bnha imagines#aizawa x reader#aizawa x sister!reader#bnha aizawa#aizawa shouta#aizawa imagine#eraserhead#platonic imagine#aizawa platonic imagine#aizawa is tired#shota aizawa#mha aizawa#my hero academia x reader#bnha x reader#boku no hero imagines#my hero x reader
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Title: Your new home at Hawks's apartment
Characters: Hawks / Keigo Takami (Mainly), Miruko (My Hero Academia/BNHA)
Summary: After Hawks adopted you, you were shown to your new home a luxurious apartment that belongs to the pro hero Hawks.
Warnings/tags: Slowburn platonic yandere, fem!child!reader, smidge agnst, reader has a "healing" quirk, the obsessions themes are not obvious here but will happen at one point so just in case I am putting this here
Note: Kind of a part 2, if you want to see part 1 head over to the list!
Little healer here! list
Your tiny gasp as he leaped from the window of his apartment. Delighted you were laughing as you held on to his neck tightly as he told you but not enough to choke him.
"MISTER-SAN IS SO COOL!!!" You shouted at him as you looked down at the tiny buildings. You are so high up in the sky! Hawks was holding you in his arms as you two flew across buildings and houses.
You were so high up people looked like ants when they use to be so tall. Everything was so yellow.
"Hold on tight, kid and don't take of that mask it will be hard to see if you remove it."
The first place he went to was his agency. Everybody greeted him casually yet when they saw you almost everyone froze. They were so quick to assume that you were his daughter by blood.
"Was that why you left a few days?! To get her??"
"How come you haven't told us anything about you having a daughter!!"
"Why didn't you say anything!! She is sooo cute!!"
"What about the news articles?! What am I supposed to say here!!"
Hawks had to quickly silence them and explain to them that you were adopted and not his real "real" daughter. And when he wanted to introduce you to them it seemed that you have disappeared from his side to behind his leg. The suddenly loud voices surprised you a bit and when all of the people's eyes were on you you can't help but hide even more.
Why are you so cute??
"She wasn't this shy before... probably cause there are way too many people here. Come one kid introduce yourself."
Hawks had to slowly help you out into introducing yourself to his agency, shyly you told them your name almost hesitant when you said Keigo's family name. Dear really why are you so adorable?? The whole agency was practically cooing over you at how cute you were.
Almost instantly you were given soo many sweets and candies by everyone that you needed a plastic bag to carry them all. Keigo casually took the bag later unable to bare laughing as he watched you struggle to carry the plastic bag as big as you.
"Would you look who it is! Hawks!" You looked to your side to see a woman with bunny ears and the most mischievous smile. "Are you back from your holi-"
The woman looked at you surprised and you looked at her surprised, the both of you made eye contact. "So who is the unlucky woman you la-" "Shut up."
Hero name Mirko also known as Rumi Usagiyama, Hawks was quick to introduce the both of you also explaining that he had adopted you. "Ehhh what made you think you wanted to become a father so fast?" Mirko smirked at him crossing her arms. Keigo rolled his eyes.
"So little bunny, how is it living with pro hero Hawks?" Mirko asked squatting right beside you to get to your height. You looked at her rabbit ears curiously "It is fun! Mister-san is super nice and funny. He also made the best pancakes I ever tried!" You told her with enthusiasm.
"She is so cute, how the heck did you find her?" Mikro asked Keigo as she played with your cheeks. Squishing both of them, so puffy but still could use a little more fat in them. "Jealous?" Hawks huffed, a smirk on his face.
Mirko was about to say a witty comeback before she felt something odd in her arm. Fast she let go of your face jumping back, high alert as she looked at you cautiously. You covered your cheeks pouting adorably.
You did something, Mirko had dropped her guard just a little for a moment there while chatting with you. She felt as if something entered her veins.
"What did you do kid?" Mirko asked glancing at her hand. It was a strange feeling almost as if something was crawling in her veins. It wasn't uncomfortable, almost warm but... unfamiliar. "Mirko-san had a cut on her arm that looks painful." You grumbled.
Mirko quickly checked the cut it was true that she had a cut on her arm after some fight with villains this early morning. It wasn't really serious and she planned on getting it treated later but it was gone, all that was left was a thin line that told her it was not from her own imagination.
"Little Birdie here had a quirk that heals, she healed me when I got into a little trouble with some villains," Hawks explained, with a smirk this time on his face. "Her skills if trained properly can be on par with recovery girl's skills if not better."
The tension soon died down as Hawks explained how you and he meet and Mirko and Hawks started shooting jabs at each other. Mirko thanked you for healing her giving your head a little ruffle.
"She is so cute plus she can heal! Hey. Give little bunny to me I will be a better caretaker than you."
"In your dreams."
You and Keigo soon took your leave heading to the mall to buy a few things more for you and your room that he asked most to be delivered back. After heading to the market and buying some groceries you and Keigo started to head back to his apartment.
"Mister I wanna ask you something." You were sitting on his shoulders as you held on to his head. "Hmmm?" Keigo grunted allowing you to continue.
"You must be honest with me!" You looked down at him. Keigo wondered why you were asking this but nodded his head. "Did Mister adopt me because of my quirk?"
Unconsciously he paused mid-step unable to answer for a moment needing to think a little. But it seemed that his silence was enough for you to understand what was going on.
"It is fine Mister." You told him placing your small head on his head, "I understand." You told him.
You didn't give him a chance to answer.
It was something that maybe you may have come to expect seeing that your tone wasn't surprised at all. And somehow it surprised Keigo a bit at this reaction... would he call it mature he was sure but it left a guilty feeling, you were at such a young age but you didn't expect much from him...
It gave an ugly feeling inside.
And a certain fear that you have closed yourself from him now.
But what can he do now?
Your actions were the same as yesterday when you got to the apartment but even he knew how you weren't as talkative as yesterday. Silently going to bed after telling him how fun today was as it was your first time going to the arcade and that you will save enough tickets to get a friend for Mr. Hawks the hawk plushie. That you were thankful for the books and colored pencils that he got you. Especially that red bow pin that you told him looked like a red butterfly.
You didn't ask him to stay beside you while you go to sleep instead you were the one to close the door to your room when he thought that he must follow to keep you company.
It was hard for Keigo to sleep that night.
Too quiet.
#platonic yandere#platonic imagine#platonic yandere imagine#hawks#keigo tamaki#yandere keigo takami#yandere hawks#tw yandere#bnha imagines#bnha scenarios#mha imagines#platonic yandere bnha#bnha writing#mha writing#yandere hawks x reader#yandere keigo x reader#platonic yandere x you#yandere imagine#yandere bnha#platonic yandere mha
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Passing (Pt3)
Warnings: Medical treatment, fainting, cancer (breast) and all things related.
Summary: In which all the signs pass by you.
A/N: So sorry this took so long but I had a sudden rush and finally got this written in the midst of one of the worst writers block of my life. This is the final part because I can no longer be bothered and this mini-series isn't my best performing.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
*****
It was a collective agreement that cancer sucked. Like, literally.
Everyday, you felt the life being sucked out of you. Constant chemo being pushed into your body and radiation was slowly draining you.
In the beginning, it was scary as heck and you hadn't actually felt too weak, still being able to work full shifts without a problem. But, the dilemma came around the time of when you finished your first round of treatment and nothing had changed.
Your doses were almost immediately doubled, resulting in your hair falling at twice the rate, your body weight dropping and you were being sick way too often.
You had now resulted to wearing a bandana to keep it hidden from the outside world of your balding. Slowly, your shift hours decreased as you lost all your strength and you could no longer stay on your feet for a prolonged period of time.
Things took the biggest turn when you were suddenly attacked while on a lunch break in between calls.
Poor Sylvie, you scared the life out of her when you didn't get up from being knocked over.
It was an easy decision after that. You were on medical leave until further notice.
You cried like a baby that night, grasping your phone tightly as the sound of the voicemail faded away, your blood family not answering you in your time of desperate need.
But, they were completely irrelevant when your real family came tumbling in to comfort you. Sylvie embracing you in her signature hug that reduce your tears into mere stains on your cheeks.
As the next few months progressed, your condition remained stationary. Everyone at the firehouse took it in shifts to come over to your apartment, cooking, cleaning and keeping you company no matter the occasion.
This wasn't your first birthday you spent in the hospital but it was your first ever time celebrating while hooked up to blood sucking drugs.
You were fed up and on a whim, you and your oncologists scheduled a surgery to remove the cancerous tumours laying within your breasts.
It was a total accident that your family found out. As it turns out, apparently, some of your mail was still delivered to the firehouse for some reason and it was mistaken for a colleagues. Everyone was shocked to say the least when they read the contents of the letter.
Their continuous support brought on the waterworks and just their presence alone made you realised just how lucky you were to know such amazing people.
Surgery was scary to say the least. You were going in alive but you wouldn't know if you'd come back from it, let alone if they got all the cancer removed.
But for once, fate was on your side because as soon as you woke up, groggy yes but the second your oncologists said you were cancer free, it felt like a fever dream.
But it wasn't. You were assured plenty of times that this was indeed reality and that you could go back to the life you loved.
And maybe there could be a day where you wouldn't live in fear, a day when you could be confident and relaxed in your own body.
Maybe it was your fault that all the signs and symptoms passed by you, maybe if you had caught it earlier and been more attentive then perhaps none of this would've happened.
Technically speaking, this entire fiasco could've been prevented had you just looked at the obvious instead of living in denial 24/7.
But for the time being, you'd take what a cancer free life would give you, cherishing everything that came bundle up with the word 'remission' for one day, just the thought sat dangling before you, that this all would be stripped away from you again.
Just the thought of it made you sick. Having cancer, you didn't want to go through it again, you didn't want to subject your family to your endless suffering again.
Re-diagnosis was a thought for another time though. Everyone was going to relish in the now and live in the present because there was time for tomorrow later.
#one chicago x reader#one chicago imagine#onechicago#chicago fire#chicago fire x reader#platonic imagine#platonic#light angst#fem reader#x reader
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