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jamiedc-they-them · 8 months

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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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