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#platonic reader insert
theaspsaroaceimagines · 2 months
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Regarding your Death Deity!Reader, I wanna see their relationship with Lucifer. Are they friends, associates, or just simply acquaintances? Do they respect each other when they meet and go on, or do they stay to have a chat with one another?
Oooh! Yes! Thank you for this ask!
Lucifer & God of Death! Reader
So, to start, the relationships between supernatural beings can be weird.
For example, Lucifer's "mistake" is the reason you exist.
Making him technically your father-equivalent.
But, also, he had no direct hand in your "birth".
So technically, you're not related to him at all.
But also also, you were created by the same Creator who created Lucifer.
Making you technically siblings.
With all that in mind, you have a neutral-positive view of Lucifer.
Without him, you wouldn't exist, but also without him, you wouldn't be so busy all the time.
Still, you know he didn't mean any harm, so you're generally friendly with him whenever you cross paths.
Lucifer's views on you, however, are a different story.
He sees you as one of the worse side-effects of his meddling.
Without you, people wouldn't die.
But he also understands that you're a temporary solution to the problem of evil and suffering.
And he recognizes that you try to be a positive in his life.
He just wishes he could stop being uncomfortable around you.
All this adds up to your meetings being a little awkward.
For example, because you're so busy, the last time you saw Lucifer was before he and Lilith split up.
So when you meet up with him during your vacation, and you ask how his wife's doing...
He has to awkwardly tell you that they've been split up for quite some time.
That's what you get when you don't see someone for a thousand years, you ask accidentally sensitive questions because you're not up-to-date on their life.
Your relationship's improved since you both got on-board with Charlie's project, though.
What can I say? Charlie brings out the best in both of you.
Where he used to barely politely acknowledge you when you crossed paths, the two of you now strike up friendly conversation.
It's refreshing, since you're usually met with wariness, fear, or, worst of all, psychotic devotion. You really hate the people who worship you...
These days, you like to call Lucifer a friend.
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writinginatree · 5 months
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The Lost Boys x reader - Breakfast Gone Wrong
Summary: You get hurt by what was supposed to be your victim, and your overprotective vampire brothers get overprotective.
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, injury, blood drinking, swearing, vampire!reader, written from David's point of view.
Requested by @mizgames way back in February. I'm so so sorry for taking so extremely long to get this done. It's also a little different from your exact request because I remembered it wrong and didn't read the request again before I started writing, but I hope you still like it anyway!
David knew it was a bad idea to let you hunt on your own. He fucking knew it. That's all he can think of as he rushes to your side, following your pained screams. He should have never let you out of his sight, but you were just so goddamn stubborn he hadn't been able to change your mind. In a fit of what he can only classify as teenage rebellion, and for absolutely no reason other than being a brat, you had suddenly decided that you're a big, grown-up vampire perfectly capable of hunting alone. And David, wrapped around your little finger as he is, had given in and agreed, despite knowing he shouldn't.
He told you not to go too far away from him and the others, to pick an easy victim, to call him if you needed help.
And now here you are, writhing in the sand with a wooden stake through your stomach. He left you unsupervised for five, ten minutes at most. This will definitely have been the last time he ever let you out of his sight. He'll be damned if he takes the risk of something like this ever happening again. Nope, you're grounded — for the rest of all eternity.
The asshole who did this is currently being torn apart by Paul and Marko, while Dwayne is already kneeling by your side, assessing the graveness of your injury. David joins him, since the feral blondes clearly don't need his help. He wordlessly holds you down as Dwayne pulls the wood from your body.
You cry out in pain, try to sit up and get away, but David is stronger and keeps you in place.
He's looking anywhere but at your face. If there's one thing he can't stand it's seeing you suffer. If he looks at your tearstained face for too long he might just start crying too.
Finally Dwayne has pulled the stake — which on closer inspection is just a branch that was probably meant to feed a bonfire — free, and your wails die down into soft sobs. He lifts your head onto his lap, stroking your hair, as David holds your hands and murmurs soothing words.
Paul and Marko drag what's left of your attacker over to you, letting his blood trickle directly into your mouth. You instinctively gulp it down, though David is pretty certain you don't even consciously notice anything going on around you through the pain clouding your mind.
You'll need a lot more blood than what's left in this guy to regain your strength. In their ripping him to shreds, Marko and Paul wasted a lot of the precious liquid, which now uselessly stains the sand a few feet beside your weak form. David decides it's only fair if they're the ones to have to go and find another victim to feed you with, while he and Dwayne watch over you.
For a moment he considers immediately taking you back to the cave, but dismisses the idea as quickly as it came. With how weak you are, David doesn't want to risk moving you just yet. Not until they've gotten some more blood into you.
The other two have only been gone a few minutes, but David can't take watching you like this any longer. He pushes back his sleeve and pierces his skin with his fangs, holding the wound to your lips. You instantly start sucking his blood, and he can almost watch as some semblance of life slowly returns to your face.
"Don't give them too much," Dwayne cautions. "You weakening yourself too is the last thing we need right now."
"I know."
"They'll be fine."
"I know," David repeats, and it's halfway true. The logically thinking part of him does know that. But there's also that other part, the part that can't watch you cry, the part that would go insane if he lost you. It's the same part of him that upon meeting you all those years ago instantly declared himself your older brother, a feeling that has only been amplified after being turned into vampires. He doesn't doubt the others feel the same. As the youngest of their group you have them all extremely protective over you, though David is aware he's the most protective of you by far. Maybe even a bit too much so, though he would never admit that. It's only natural, he thinks, after all he was the first to become your brother.
But Dwayne is right, he shouldn't let his feelings get the best of him. You're going to be okay. Paul and Marko should be back with a human blood donor for you soon, anyway. He just wanted to make sure you could hold out until then.
Now you almost look strong enough to drain a victim yourself if they hold it down for you, and after you feed you'll definitely be strong enough to sit on David's bike and let him take you back to the safety of the cave. He almost thinks you'll even be strong enough to be a brat and protest, but David will not let you change his mind about grounding you. Your safety comes first, your happiness second.
He pries his arm from your mouth and wipes a few stray drops of blood from your chin with his gloved hand.
You blink up at him, seemingly a lot more aware of your surroundings than just a couple minutes ago.
"How are you feeling, kitten?"
"Ouchie."
David chuckles despite himself. "Yeah, you could say that. What were you thinking?!"
"He looked like an easy victim..." Your voice is weak, hoarse with tears, but David is relieved you're already wearing your typical bratty pout again. "How was I supposed to know he'd try and gut me?!"
"People tend not to like it when you're trying to kill them."
"That's not a reason to stab someone!"
David thinks of all the times you came close to biting his or one of the other boys' fingers off for minor offences like wanting a bite of your food or wiping dirt from your face. Just last week you threatened to stab David with your ice cream cone because he said you couldn't stay at the boardwalk any longer if you wanted to be home at the cave before the sun came up.
"Uh-huh."
He shares a look with Dwayne, and knows he's thinking the same thing.
Just then Paul and Marko come back, a woman's limp body hanging between them. They dump her beside you. "Here, baby, we knocked her out for you."
For a moment you just stare, like you're not sure what you're supposed to do with her, or too exhausted to lean over and bite her. But then you move, sinking your teeth deep into her throat and David smells the blood when your teeth break the skin.
The boys sit around you in a protective circle and watch as you drink. They're hungry too, after all they barely had time to find victims of their own, let alone suck them dry, before your cry for help drew them away. But they hold back. They can wait.
Silently communicating they agree to bring you home, and then go out to feed in pairs, so there's always two of them with you. It's an unnecessary precaution, of course, but that doesn't bother them. It will bother you — or at least you'll say it does. You always pretend to be annoyed by their protectiveness, by being babied by them so much, as you like to phrase it. But the way you always hide under David's coat, make Paul give you piggyback rides and Dwayne read to you, and insist on Marko doing your hair for you says different. You might be pissed at David for grounding you, but he doesn't doubt you'll secretly love being the center of attention like that — even more so than usual.
Paul has curled up by your side now, arms wrapped around you and nuzzling his head against your shoulder. You briefly interrupt your feeding to hiss at him. David is glad to see it — the fact you're defending your food is a sure sign you're feeling better.
When you're done there's blood smeared all over your face. Dwayne wipes it away with his flag, making you whine and try to push away his hands. "I'm not a baby, Dwayne!"
Oh yes, you're definitely feeling better.
Still, you allow David to pick you up and carry you back to where the bikes are parked, snuggling against his chest and refusing to be put back down when you've reached the bikes. David sighs and climbs on his bike with you, sitting you in front of him and telling you to hold on tight to him, despite you already doing that.
Back at the cave you still refuse to let go, so David carries you inside and settles in your favorite spot — a sort of nest you've built in a small alcove going off the main cave, consisting of a mattress covered in a pile of countless fluffy blankets and pillows, with all the stuffed animals the boys have won for you at the boardwalk over the years strewn all over the place — with you on his lap.
Paul runs after him, and throws himself down beside the both you, cuddling close. Once he's done squirming around to get comfortable he's halfway laying on top of David, too, his face pressed so deep into your side he would probably suffocate if he were human.
It reminds David that he wasn't the only one worried about you, as he watches the tension seep from Paul's body now that you're in safety and he can hold you close. Since it's obvious Paul won't be letting go of you for a while, Marko and Dwayne head out to feed first, each pressing a kiss to your forehead before they go.
You're close to falling asleep, despite how early in the night it still is. No wonder after what you just went through.
David brushes his hand over your face, gently traces the bridge of your nose up to your forehead and back down in a soothing motion, watches your eyelids flutter as you fight to stay awake.
David well remembers a night much like this one, many years ago when you had all still been human, kids living on the streets. You'd been attacked then, too, by a man who'd caught you trying to steal from him. You still have the scar on your chin, where his knife grazed you before you got away. Then, like now, you'd clung to David for the rest of the night, hiding in the questionable safety of his arms.
He traces over the scar on your chin, wondering if today's injury will leave one, too. He supposes not. Vampires don't get scars as far as he's aware, but then again there's still so much he doesn't know about all this, even after decades of undead life.
"Sleep, kitten. You've got to rest."
An agreeing hum comes from Paul's direction, but you continue forcing your eyes to stay open.
"I'm not even tired."
He ignores the wornout lie and says, "You're hurt. The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you'll feel better."
You seem to consider this for a moment, absentmindedly playing with Paul's hair and snuggling even closer to David, if that's even possible.
Finally you nod. "Fine. But you have to stay with me the whole time. I'll get nightmares if you make me sleep alone."
David hadn't expected anything else, and agrees. He doesn't mind going hungry in favor of watching over you, even if he knows you've never had a nightmare in your life.
He keeps stroking your face, slowly lulling you to sleep.
Paul, never one to keep still for long, starts fidgeting, and David throws him a glare. "Stay still or go do something else. You're keeping Y/N up."
"Sing us a lullaby then."
Before David can even think to tell Paul to fuck off, your eyes shoot wide open again, and you nod. "Yes, David, sing us a lullaby!"
With a heavy sigh David resigns to his fate. He really needs to learn how to say no to you, but of course that's never going to happen. And, seeing the content little smile on your face, he can't really bring himself to mind.
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jamiedc-they-them · 24 days
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Blood and Water (Platonic)
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Reuested Imagine: "can i request a Stilgar x child reader? basically Child reader (8 years old) escapes into the desert with their parents because the harkonens are hutning them down, (reader and their parents left the city because readers parents found a weak spot in the citys foundation that can lead to a rebellion or something like that), the harkonens catch up and readers parents stay behind to give reader time to escape, child reader does and escapes into the rocky mountains but one harkonen catches the reader and thats when Stilgar saves child reader and he is instantly protective of this little child and starts acting like a father to child reader.
if that is okay!!"
AN// Hi Anon! I hope you enjoy this piece! It's quite a long one and spiralled into it tying into Dune Parts I and II, but the central focus is still Stilgar and R's bond! I also had Chani be there as well due to the Tribe as a whole. Thank you for the request! <3
SPOILERS FOR DUNE PART II
Your parents raised you well. They taught you about the Harkonnens and their violent oppression of you and your people. They told you, as well, about the Fremen – in terms of different beliefs and territories.
You were young, about 8 when they died. You were forced to flee when your parents were discovered. Word got to them from friends, but you weren’t quick enough. Your mother held your hand tightly as you ran, your father already had stayed behind. But, despite your age, you know what it means that the Harkonnen’s are still behind you.
He’s died.
Your mother gets you to an exit, a small gap you used to crawl through when younger with friends. Friends you haven’t seen in a while. Maybe they’re dead, too.
“You have to go,” your mother tells you, cupping your face in her hands, “you have to live.”
“What about you?” You ask back, tears running down your face.
Your mother wipes your tears, “do not shed your water, my child,” she says, “not even for the dead.”
“Will – will I see you —?” You don’t get to answer your question, as a knife is stabbed through your mother’s chest. You fall back, on instinct diving through the hole in the wall. A hand grabs you, you just about escape the grip.
You’re out now. Out of a Arrakeen and in the desert itself. You immediately feel the heat, not used to being exposed to it so bluntly.
You hear something above you, an Ornithopter. You can’t outrun these, you’ve seen how fast they can go.
Still, as fast your legs will take you, you run. You run for all the worth that your water has.
You don’t even feel the vibrations on the sand at first. To you, it’s just the vibrations from the Ornithopter above. That is, until you hear it. The low shriek of your god. Of Shai-Hulud, bursting out of the sand, and taking the Ornithopter down.
You don’t even realise how far you have actually made it, making it a rocky hill. Your distraction of the Sandworm appearing means that you don’t see the Harkonnen’s still chasing you on foot, and you find yourself being tackled to the floor. You feel your head hit something, and the world becomes a blur. You try and fight back, but with the disorientation alongside your age and size, you can only wait for the end.
Maybe some Fremen can find some use with your water, maybe that would be useful in some way.
You get your wish, sort of.
You hear voices, and clashing of blades. Then, for a moment, silence.
You fade in and out. You feel yourself being carried.
When you reopen your eyes, you’re in what your parents told you is a Sietch. You never thought you’d see one.
“Calm, child. Calm,” you hear a voice say. You look over, seeing man much older than one you have ever seen. He wears a robe, eyes blue. His voice is deep, but soft in this case, “you are safe now. You are safe.”
You look around your area, seeing no one else, but beds are here all the same.
The man seems to see your silent question, “I brought you here to rest peacefully.”
You nod, thankful in a way.
The man gets up, he holds a hand out to you, “when you are ready, join us.”
He leaves after that. You sit in your bed. You feel the emotion inside of you for the losses you have just gone through, through everything that just occurred so quickly.
But, your mother was right, don’t waste your water. You can grieve for them by fighting back. By continuing it.
You join the man, but instead find this place filled to the brim with other people. Other Fremen. Some dressed differently than others, but maybe that was just the difference between the north and south Fremen tribes your parents told you about. You never fully understood how they knew this though, given that you lived (lived is a strong word, more like just about survived) in the city under the thumb of the Harkonnen’s.
The people stop, and stare at you.
You hear a girl clear her throat, she looks at you – almost doing calculations in her mind – before turning to the group, “Stilgar,” she calls out.
The crowd part as the man from before, now known to you as Stilgar, approaches you.
“Are you well, child?”
You nod. He does as well.
“Come. Chani,” the girl who was looking at you before looks to Stilgar, “fetch the child some food, please?”
She nods, silently going to do so.
Stilgar puts a hand on your shoulder, “come child. There is a lot to discuss.”
Despite your young age, he treats you like a person rather than a young child. Part of you likes that.
He takes you to a corner as everyone starts to eat. Chani hands you some food, before going to join her friends.
“Don’t mind Chani,” Stilgar says, “she is weary of new-comers. She will ease to you with time.”
You nod. You know it’s supposed to be comforting, but it just once again reminds you of your parents.
Stilgar sighs, putting his bowl down and looking at you, “you will be safe with us.”
“My parents…their water…”
“Arrakeen is not a place so easily entered. But, if we can, we shall try and retrieve what we can. We did that with the Harkonnen’s you had following you. It was contaminated, but it does still have uses.”
You nod, at least they got something out of this.
“Why were you so close to the city?”
Stilgar is impressed. Young, but inquisitive.
“We did not mean to be,” he admits, “we heard commotion, and saw Shai-Hulud, so followed and found you.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank us. You are Fremen, we are all equal here.”
You look around at these people, your people. You are such a small part of a massive place.
“My parents fought back against the Harkonnen’s,” Stilgar nods, seemingly knowing this, “do you think I could help?”
He smiles and nods, “we will show you the ways of the desert.”
He does. They all do. Chani starts to learn how to fight, and so Stilgar has her be the one who teaches you the most. You’re both decently close in age, so it allows you both to know someone else as well in the tribe.
Stilgar also teaches you about the prophecy and legends that are more so within the southern tribes. About Lisan Al-Giab (or “The Voice From the Outer World”). One who will come down and lead you all to victory and bring Arrakis back to glory.
You notice more about the divide between the North and South tribes in regards to this one time when you are training with Chani:
“Stilgar keeps telling me about the Lisan Al-Giab,” you say, as you and Chani lock training blades.
“It’s superstition. A prophecy all about control and imbalance. A story.”
“How can you be so sure?” You don’t entirely believe it yourself – despite the hope it can give you sometimes, that all this isn’t for nothing – and yet you find yourself defending your closest companion here despite that.
Even Chani notices that within you, “how can you be that you this person will show up?”
It stays with you. However, despite that, you remain close to Stilgar. He teaches you all he can, both through action – like helping you craft your Cysknife or learning the ways to traverse the Dunes without alerting the Worms – and words – telling you about the Fremen ways and legends passed down through time.
He makes sure you’re fed, and always helps you with your Stillsuit, making sure it is secure. If he has to fix something with it, he explains what the error is. With food and water, if he has any spare, he gives it to you. He’s a guiding figure in your life. He is the one who took you in after all. He’s taught you all he’s known. He’s given you something you once thought lost:
A family.
That family all cheers for you when you successfully ride a Sandworm on your own. It’s not massive, but it’s big enough. Stilgar hugs you tightly, and proudly proclaims you as his child, and a sibling of the tribe. The tribe had always teased him for the fatherly ways he had with you, but now it was done in a genuine way. They all celebrate you that night.
Before you know it, several years have gone by. You have fought back how you can. Sometimes big things, like destroying Carryall’s or Harvesters in big assaults, or by eliminating a squad of Harkonnen’s.
Stilgar, as time goes on, still holds that protectiveness, but also knows you can hold your own. You’re equal. Father and child, working in sync, both learning from each other – him in terms of your creativity and your thoughts on the planet and plans (being equals, all opinions are taken in, but your ones are ones they listen to more). For you, it’s learning how to survive and about your people and the history of this planet. Sometimes it's found by what other Fremen have left behind, sometimes it’s stories from him.
Then you all meet someone new: Paul and Jessica Atreides.
Stilgar looks to you and Chani – you’re weary of this outsider, but if he wins against Jamis, then he has earned his place.
“Why did I never have to fight?” You asked Stilgar as Jamis and Paul prepare.
“Because, I took you as my charge,” Stilgar answers, “you were my child when I chose that. I am also Niab, no one could challenge me on it, either.”
You don’t waste your water, but he can tell it has meaning to you. He just gives a nod.
Paul wins his battle. You don’t acknowledge it until it’s too late, but you feel something shift within your father.
At first, Paul and Jessica follow you for mere survival. But, things soon start to change, especially Jamis’ water is collected. Jessica drinks the water of life and…survives; and Paul starts picking up on more and more Fremen techniques like they were his own.
Stilgar starts to drift away from you. He still cares about you and checks in with you everything, but you can feel him pulling away.
Even Chani, your closest friend in the tribe, begins to pull away. But, she doesn’t believe as much within Lisan Al-Giab as she does instead Paul himself and his ability to help you all
One night, when you sit on a Dune, looking out at your home planet, she joins you.
“Something’s different, Chani,” you confess.
“I know,” she says, “but they can help us.”
“Your love for Paul blinds you.”
“And your loyalty to Stilgar blinds you.”
“We are Fremen, Chani. We are family and tribe. He is — he is not.”
“He will be Fremen. Tomorrow.”
You don’t hate Paul, he’s listened to you and helped you – it’s Jessica, the Bene Gesserit Witch, that you don’t trust. She’s pulling strings, you just can’t see them.
“I’m sorry,” you say to your best friend, “I’m not angry at you.”
“I know,” she says, “I’m not angry at your or Stilgar. Well, maybe Stil a little,” you chuckle a bit, “but, he loves you, Y/N. He loves all of us. He’s our Niab, he won’t let anything happen to us.”
You nod, “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
Chani understands your concerns but doesn’t voice them (she wishes she did later).
The night before Paul’s Sandworm test, you go and find Stilgar.
“What troubles you, child?” He asks. Despite being in your teens now, he still refers to you that way. A reminder of the home you always have with him.
“I’m worried for Paul,” and you, you want to say, but can’t find it in yourself to say it.
Stilgar nods, “I am too. But, I was when I also sent you out on your own ride, and the other tests. But, you survived, and so shall he.”
“How can you be sure?”
“He is Lisan Al-Giab.”
“But I am not.”
His eyes dart to you, “no, you are not. You are my child. You have my knowledge, but your own strength. It was why you have survived.”
Despite the growing distance, you smile at his words.
The day of Paul’s ride comes, and even your eyes widen at the size of the worm. Even you cheer when he masters it in the end. Even you, for a moment, believe. But, you then look to your father, and how wide his eyes are. How taken he is by this legend, by the faith he had in this story; in what the rewards would be in the end.
Your smile dims a bit.
Paul wants revenge? Understandable, so do you for your parents and all other fallen Fremen – but, with the influence Paul is having over your tribe, with the followers he is gathering and the army he is building up in his name alone of Maud’dib  - or, more importantly, Lisan Al-Giab – it scares you. You want freedom and revenge, but you also want to know what would be next. This freedom is for your people, not Paul. He’s even reuniting with people, Gurney Halleck, a brilliant fighter and musician. But, once again, another outsider. This one not even proving himself, just following.
And then you find the old cache of Atreides atomic weapons. A weapon you thought banned in the universe. And yet, here you are, capturing them for you own use.
You don’t know who to turn to with your worries, your fears. Everyone has been taken in by Paul and Jessica, even Gurney. Chani, you don’t know if she is completely blinded by her love, but she hasn’t voiced anything to you yet, so you can’t be sure.
For the first time since you were 8 and on the run, you feel alone. Totally alone.
Or, not totally alone, as Chani slaps Paul as soon as he wakes after drinking from the Water of Life, and the only person she looks to is you before she leaves. She’s as alone as you are. Two people caught up in this madness.
The straw that breaks you is the Southern Tribes being forced to meet after Sietch Tabr falls. You’re glad your father gets to live, don’t get that misunderstood – but you aren’t sure if the person you are begging to see reason and stop what Paul is about to do is the man who took you in and gave you a family and a home all those years ago. You plead, even shouting “father!” To him loudly, startling the other Fremen and even almost getting yourself kicked out. It’s Gurney, of all people, who pull you down alongside Chani.
“Stay hidden, and stay quiet,” he tells you both. Chani removes his hand from your arm.
“This has nothing to do with you,” Chani spits to him.
According to him though, with his thirst for revenge, and a scar he was given, it has everything to do with him.
Paul is declared leader, officially becoming Lisan Al-Giab – all you and Chani can do is dispear and look on in horror.
When it comes to the battle plans, Paul interrupts you before you can even speak, telling you:
“I do like the idea, Y/N, I am glad you told it to me,” his vision must’ve shown him your ideas. Thus, in the meeting, you are left to be mute.
You play your role, just being in the mix of the soldiers. Everything the tribe has taught you with combat and awareness coming into play. It helps you focus. You don’t have any training of a Bene Gesserit witch, but you have your methods.
You picture each Harkonnen you kill being the ones who murdered your parents. You like to image all their water being embraced by Shia-Hulud and the sand.
You win. And all it comes down to is Paul vs Feyd-Rautha. Despite your fears, this is all your efforts have led to. You want Paul to win, but a lesser evil is still evil.
Paul does. Barely, but he wins. You see Chani’s relief. Your father proclaims once more that Paul is Lisan Al-Giab, and kneels. Everyone else follows, even the Emperor after kissing Paul’s ring.
Only yourself, Chani, and Princess Irulan stay standing.
Paul looks to you both, respect and something else in his eyes when he looks to you.
You look to your father, seeing him begging with his eyes for you to kneel. You see the horror there of what could happen to you. The care he shows once again there, but it’s too late now.
Your mind is already made up, however. Whatever happens, it will be because of your choices. Not faith. Not some false hope.
“You will come back,” Paul says, “one day, you will.”
You leave. Chani leaves after you.
You keep walking, ignoring Chani calling after you.
You love her, you do. She’s your best friend and sister. You love Stilgar, he’s your father. But you can’t be around this. You can’t sit and watch this ‘Holy War’ go on. You may be a victim of it due to your leaving. You don’t care.
You’re an orphan once again, it seems. Cast away to the unforgiving deserts of Dune. You’ve just traded in one ruler for another.
You hope you’re wrong. You don’t think you are, but you hope you are.
And maybe Paul is right; maybe one day, you will return.
But not today. And not for many more days.
You’ll see your father again though, you’re sure of that.
In one world, or the other.
So, you thank the Maker and bless them for Stilgar and the family it brought you, and then get your hooks ready and place a thumper of your own down and wait.
Wait to ride off to your next destination.
As far away from Arrakeen as you can possibly get.
You don’t shed a tear. You don’t waste your water. Not even for the dead, metaphorically or otherwise.
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am-i-obsessed---maybe · 4 months
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Dark Glasses - Crowley x Reader (Platonic)
Sooooo, Nanowrimo was a bust, but you know what that means?
We're back with the fanfiction train! Choo Choo!
also reminder that requests are open! (just check out my guidelines first)
Wordcount: 1.9k
Summery: Friends support friends even when your friend is actually a demon but especially when your demon friend just got shot down by his long time angel crush.
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The same man has been coming to your bar since you started working there five years ago. The other bartenders told you he's been around since you opened 20 years ago, he never gives his name and comes in with dark glasses no matter what time of day it is or whether the sun is out or not. Although unlike most regulars he doesn't have a specific drink he always orders. Sometimes it’s a rum and coke, sometimes he goes for a more classy bottle of wine, sometimes he'll even order a straight shot of liquor but he always tips well. 
You call him 'Dark Glasses'. You could have called him redhead seeing as his hair was the most vibrant red you'd ever seen. There was no way it was natural but that wouldn't be fair to him. Some people can get very touchy about red hair. 
Instead you called him dark glasses.
Dark Glasses came into your bar one day, sauntering over in the late afternoon, not an unnatural occurrence. The bar was basically empty with the exception of two friends that got a head start on the night's drinking. 
Dark Glasses sat down and you could feel the loss and pain flowing off of him, not like how you can tell with people. It wasn't his expression or body language that gave you the impression though, it was as if you felt his emotions. As if they were ebbing off of him. 
"Give me whatever's strongest" He said and you nodded, something told you he needed to drown out his sorrows. 
“One bone dry martini coming right up” you said. 
As you mixed his drink you periodically looked over at him, the poor guy was thrown over the bar as if it was the only thing keeping him from crying. 
You walked over to him and handed him the drink. 
"There you go sir" You said and he perked up only slightly, took the glass from you and downed the entire thing in one go. 
"I'll need another one" He said, pushing the glass back in your direction.
You stared at him, "That, that was a glass of straight vodka. three shots of vodka." You said, stunned. 
"I thought you said this was a martini" The man mumbled. 
"Yes, the glass is coated in a little bit of vermouth, that's what makes it so dry... You just downed three shots of vodka like it was nothing" You said. 
"Got a high tolerance, now can I get another one please?" He asked and honestly you were a bit too stunned to say no. 
After two more though you knew he was done. Normal people, even those with a high tolerance like he apparently has can't drink more than 6 shots of vodka without getting drunk and he was drunk. 
Mind you, not the fun kind he normally is. You're familiar with Dark Glasses when he's drunk. He slurs and gets very bold and flirty as well as clumsy, though not touchy which always surprised you. Now though, now was different. Now he was a sad drunk. Moping all around the bar. He could barely walk, instead he swayed from side to side and his flirting, something you could usually count on to raise your spirits, became lowley grumbling. 
"I think that's enough" You said, taking what little remained of his third glass and pouring it out.
"What? No! I'm fine" He tried to say but struggled with the last word. 
"No, you're drunk. You can stick around but the only thing you're getting is water" You told him and he made a face that almost looked like a snake trying to give puppy dog eyes. 
"Come on Y/N, you know me, I can handle anything" He said, pulling you by the sleeve over the bar. 
He's never initiated contact like that before. Not with anyone. 
"Alright, that's enough. Go home" You told him and he deflated. 
"Can't," He said. 
"What do you mean can't?" You asked. 
He had a home. He'd told you about it. A nice flat in mayfair with lots of plants. 
"Can't. Don't live there anymore" He said and you looked genuinely surprised. Is that what has him so down in the dumps? Was he evicted? Did the bank repossess his apartment?
"What about that bookseller friend of yours in Soho? Can't you stay with him?" You asked and he shook his head. 
"He's gone. He went to heaven" Dark Glasses said.
"Oh I'm so sorry" You said, maybe that was why he was so down. 
"How about this, I finish my shift in a couple hours, you can crash on my couch" You told him. You'd never have said this to anyone else but you knew Dark Glasses. You knew he was sweet though he hated when someone pointed it out and you knew he needed help. 
"You would do that for me?" He asked and you smiled. 
"What can I say, you tip really well" You joked and managed to get a chuckle out of him before he went back to moping. 
A few hours later He was leaning on you as you walked him out of the bar. Somehow still just as drunk as when you'd taken away his last drink.
"Wait, wait, wait, how are we going to your place?" He asked. 
"Car" you said. He wasn't heavy but keeping him walking in a somewhat straight line out was difficult.
"My car?" He asked. 
"No. You are not driving. My car" You told him and led him over to where your slightly beat up old car was parked. 
"Now come on, in you go" You said, trying to help him in. It took a minute but he managed to shimmy in comfortably enough for someone with very little control of their extremities. 
"I don't like this car" He complained. 
"Too bad" you told him, got in and drove off.
"Why are you helping me? You're never this nice" He slurred. 
"You're never this mopey" You retorted. 
"Yeah but, but..." He trailed off. 
"We're almost there just don't fall asleep the last thing I need is to try to drag you up to my place" You said and he nodded. 
"Don't worry, I won't, I can sober up whenever I want" He said and you shook his head. Sometimes Dark Glasses said the craziest things when he was drunk. Sometimes he'd say them when he wasn't drunk but that was neither here nor there. 
You eased him through the door to your flat and he smiled. 
"You have plants, very nice Y/N" He said and you smiled. 
"Thank you now you go sit down before you collapse all over my floor" You told him and he did as he was told, sitting down and then sprawling himself over your couch. 
"He used to do this too, when I was too drunk, he'd bring me in and tell me to sit" he slurred and you turned to him, confused. 
"Who?" You asked. 
“My angel” Dark Glasses said. You came over to him with a glass of water.
"It's hard, when someone dies. Grief is a powerful thing" You told him and he shrugged. 
"I wouldn't know" he said, slurping down the contents of the cup. 
"Just sleep. You'll feel better in the morning" you told him, spreading a blanket over him and placing the cup on the coffee table. 
"Try to make it to the toilet if you puke" You told him and went to bed yourself. 
Crowley had never been hungover. He'd always sober up before it got to that point but this time he didn't. Even the thought of sobering up made him think of his drinking sessions with Aziraphale. 
But Aziraphale left. He went to heaven and left Crowley to drown out his sorrows the human way. 
The first thing you woke up to was the loud sound of someone vomiting. 
"Please god let him have made it to the toilet" You said to yourself, throwing off the blacket and going to check on your mysterious guest. 
She must have thought it would be funnier to scare you because Crowley in fact made it to the toilet. Luckily. 
Crowley was practically puking his life out, once it was all out, at least for now, he heaved. 
"How do humans do this?" He asked. He had half a mind to miracle it all away.
"With years of practice" You said, making your presence known. 
"Ahhh!" He shouted, falling back on his butt only to rub at his head and groan, "Ugh". Now everything hurt even more than before.
He still had his sunglasses on, though the bathroom lights were off and the sun hadn’t even come up yet. 
"I always thought you were pretty strange but now I'm starting to wonder if you're sane at all" You said. 
"If you're worried I'll go crazy and attack you, you needn't be." He said quietly and you rolled your eyes. 
"As if you could with the way you are right now, you look like you've been dragged through hell" You said and Crowley looked back down at the toilet. 
"Oh you have no idea" He said. 
At this point he was simply sitting criss-crossed in front of the toilet so you sat down on the bathroom floor next to him. Checking the time, it had only been a few hours.  
"I know you've gotten drunk before, have you seriously never been hungover?" You asked. 
"Never" He said. 
"I don't think I believe you" You said. 
“Well it’s the truth” He said. 
“You are one strange specimen Glasses” You said.
“Glasses?” He asked. 
“Oh, um, you never told any of us at the bar what your name was so we just called you Dark Glasses… cause you’re always wearing your dark—”
“Yeah I get it” He said. “It’s Crowley by the way” 
“That’s quite the original name” You said.
“Used to be Crawley but that was a bit too” He made a hissing noise with his tongue and you noticed it was thin and split, like a snake’s.
“You know sometimes I wonder if you’re even human with all the strange shit that comes out of your mouth” You joked and Crowley laughed and then smirked. 
“You wanna know a secret?” He asked. 
You looked at him skeptically. “Do I?” You asked. 
He shrugged, “It’s up to you really” He said. 
“Then, yeah I guess”
“I’m a demon” He said. 
You chuckled.
He didn’t laugh. 
“No”
“Yes”
“I was the serpent of eden” He said, smiling.
“That’s not– no… cause that would mean that god” He nodded, “And satan” He nodded again. 
“The world almost ended four years ago” He says. It’s almost as if seeing your reaction is helping him get his spirits back. 
“You can’t just drop a bomb like that and move on!”
“How come it didn’t?” You asked. 
“We convinced the antichrist that the earth was actually pretty nice” He said.
“We?” You asked. 
“Aziraphale… and I” He said, his voice dwindling. 
“He’s that bookseller friend of yours right?” You asked and Crowley nodded.
“He’s the one that died, I’m so sorry Crowley” You said, putting a comforting hand on Crowley’s shoulder. 
“He didn’t die.” Crowley said. 
You looked at him, “But you said he went to heaven” “He’s an angel, my angel” Crowley said, his voice wasn’t a white, it was more just, sad and full of grief. 
“He went off to become the new supreme archangel of all of heaven” Crowley said, this time he was in fact whining. 
“Well then, he could come back” You said but Crowley shook his head.
“Not after he said he forgave me” He said. 
“Forgave you for what?” “Kissing him,” Crowley said sorrowfully. 
Oh.
“I’ll go get us both some wine” You said. 
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thehomeofplatonicfics · 5 months
Note
Hi I recently discovered your account and I’m obsessed your writing is amazing and I don’t know if you’re still doing Tudor!reader Fics but if you are I have a request. So reader is Anne Boleyn’s eldest daughter and had to watch her mothers execution (for the storyline reader was 12 or so years old) and never forgave her farther so when she’s like 15 (maybe the day after Catherine Howard’s execution) she overthrows him as revenge. I hope you understand what I’m trying to say total understand if you don’t want to right it. Have a good day/night❤️
A/N: I love how kooky the timeline would have to be warped for this to be possible but I absolutely love the idea of this! So sorry for taking so long to write this, real life does enjoy getting in my way :(
Revenge
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Someone had to stop King Henry VII, your father, from his increasingly brutal reign. Lady Mary, your half-sister, seemed unable to do anything without the counsel of her precious Ambassador Chapuys. Elizabeth was of course just a child, too young to rule. Edward was a mere baby. It seemed to you that the responsibility of saving the realm fell solely on your shoulders. It was a burden you were glad to take.
You were grateful that you’d had enough time being raised by your mother Anne Boleyn, that you had learnt how to be as cunning and manipulative as she had once been. Of course, having Mary as an older sister helped solidify those ideals, as Mary was able to inspire a great deal of loyalty in others when she wanted to.
It had been a long, arduous task to slowly turn the King’s courtiers against him. An entire year had passed before the perfect opportunity had finally arisen. Only two days had passed since poor Queen Catherine Howard had been executed on your father’s orders. Though you hadn’t been the greatest fan of the silly child, she was just like you… an innocent girl. Too many young women’s lives had been destroyed on the whims of an undeserving King, and the unrest among the populace seemed at its highest. It was the perfect time to strike.
The foundations you had laid throughout the year, telling little white lies here and there, promising things that you’d never do in order to gain the loyalty of the courtiers, would serve you well. The King had noticed some changes but could never trace them back to you. Often you would have agents loyal to you do the work that needed to be done while you were at home with Elizabeth in the country, creating a wonderful alibi.
Knowing that the King seemed to be favouring Catherine, the Lady Latimer, as his potential sixth wife, you realised that she would be the perfect distraction for your coup. You knew she wanted to be with Thomas Seymour so she would be likely to help you, especially as you had always had a good relationship with her growing up. Elizabeth, of course, was easy to manipulate into playing the part that you needed her to.
You dressed in your most regal black dress, deliberately picking out jewels and a French hood that made you look like a true ruler. You took a deep breath in and out to try to calm your nerves and your trembling hands before you went into the court. You gave a subtle nod to Catherine Parr who, along with Elizabeth, went up to the King to talk to him and distract him.
As soon as the King had begun discussing something with them both, you gave the signal to your loyal people who captured his guards and those you knew were still loyal to him, discreetly dragging them away.
You gave a sly, satisfied smile as you secretly prepared your weapon behind your back. You knew that your father’s greatest fear was getting sick, so you poured a poison on your blade before walking up to him, curtsying, and then holding the blade tightly against his throat. “Y/N! What is this?!” King Henry asks incredulously, clearly not believing one of his daughters could pull this off, his face grew white as he saw all the people loyal to you with their weapons drawn.
“I am now your Queen. You will take orders from me, and no one else.” You call out to the people in the court, who begin to cheer. You smile smugly to yourself as you see your father’s world crashing down around him.
“Why, Y/N? Just… why?” You give an incredulous laugh, sneering at him. “Why, father? For my mother.” You lean forwards, your breath touching his face as you snarl your words.
You turn to your guards, and give a sweet smile. “Throw him in the tower.” You command, pushing your father towards them. You sit on the throne, looking around at your successful coup. Allowing yourself a few moments to gloat in your glory, you immediately turn to your advisors. The Queen had work to do.
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Text
Etho: Vampire Hunter AU (Reader-Insert)
Female reader.
Word count: 932
“You’re up late.” A low voice broke the silence of the night.
You looked up from your work maintaining the chapel’s pews. “Etho!” He looked tired, green and black clothes splattered with dark stains, cloak hanging off his body in ripped shreds, and reddish brown smeared all over his bare hand and forearm. 
Adjusting the mask covering the lower half of his face, he smiled with his eyes. “Sister.” Like all your friends, he called you by your title rather than your name—just as you preferred. As far as you were concerned, Sister was your name, not the pretentious mouthful assigned to you by the Church when you came here years ago. Hiding your identity was a drag, although preferable to being claimed by the powerful vampire queen who had marked you as a child.
“I take from the bloodstains all over your clothes, your hunt was successful?” Tossing your screwdriver onto the wooden pew beside where you were crouched, you leaned back to get a better look at your friend; it seemed none of the blood was his this time. Good.
He laughed, almost sounding embarrassed. “It doesn’t feel successful.”
“Rough kill?” You threw your long hair back over your shoulder, keeping it out of the way as you returned to work.
Running a blood smeared hand through his white hair, Etho’s mood darkened. “Even when I know my target has lived for over sixty years, and killed seventeen innocents, it’s not easy to drive a stake through the heart of a creature who looks like a ten year old girl…”
“The abbess always says you’re too kind for this work.” Picking up the screwdriver, you gave it a little flip in the air, catching it neatly. Gently running your left hand over the pile of screws, you grouped them as you counted in your head. 
Etho walked towards you. “Uh huhh. It’s hard to tell when she sends me out every week to kill monsters.” Sighing, he squeezed past your kneeling body to tiredly sink down onto the pew. “I shouldn’t have specialized in vampires.”
“Etho, don’t sit—!”
Splintering wood and the crash of ancient planks smacking beautiful tilework flooring interrupted your warning, as the pew gave way beneath him. “Ohhhhh.” He sounded pathetic as he lay on his back on the floor, gazing up at the decorative ceiling and gripping the pocket watch hanging from his belt. While you knew Etho must be a fierce and capable warrior, you found such an image hard to combine with the slightly hapless, and very nice guy, you had befriended over the years.
You groaned. “I had removed most of the screws attaching the seat to the end of the pew, so I could replace them with slightly wider screws, ‘cause the whole thing’s been getting loose, and had already been jury rigged before I ever came here…”
“Sorey.” His accent always came through when he apologized. “I’ll explain to the abbess it was my fault.”  
“Thanks.” Leaning back against the chapel wall, you mulled over how long it would take you to fix the pew, assuming you had the skill to properly fix something so old, delicate, and ornate—which you doubted.
“And speaking of the abbess, I got permission to take you with me on my next assignment.”
“Really?” At his words, all exasperation fled your body. Usually you were forbidden from leaving the abbey, on account of the mark on the back of your left hand. “Why?”
“You’re good at clerical work, right, Sister?”
You nodded eagerly as he continued.
“My target tonight had quite a library, and chests of saved correspondence. I needed someone to help me catalog all of it tomorrow, and since they made the mistake of letting me choose my own assistant…I chose you.” Propping himself up on his elbows, his eyes crinkled in a smile. “You do want to see more of the world, right? I don’t know why the abbess always keeps you cooped up in the church compound, but I figure I ought to show my friend a bit of the outside world if I can.”
Without thinking, you gripped the back of your left hand, imagining the green symbol on the other side of your half finger glove. “I’d love that.” 
Rising from the rather destroyed pew, which now littered the floor, Etho stretched. “I need to wash up. Wouldn’t want to talk to the abbess looking like this.” He pointed at you. “Now go get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.”
“You’re going to talk to the abbess now?”
“Some of us aren’t night owls by choice, Sister.” Etho chuckled. “If I have to work this late, she can wake up to talk to me in the middle of the night from time to time.”
Grateful for his friendship, and this opportunity to leave the abbey, you wanted to hug the lanky man before you, but decorum held you back. The last thing you had ever wanted was rumors of being romantically involved with anyone, and years of practicing such thinking left little room for nebulous gestures like hugs—no matter how platonically you intended them. “Hm, you’ve always had fun being a bit of a pain.”
“Just doing my job.” His smile shone through in his voice as you packed up your toolbox.
“See you tomorrow, Etho.”
With a jaunty little wave, he strode off, leaving you to wonder what the next day held.
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unicornletters · 5 months
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platonic izzy x reader where reader teaches izzy french? like maybe izzy knew a bit but forgot throughout the years and reader helps him brush up on his french :)
it's a ouizzy too
"Hey," Izzy says, appearing at your side much more soundlessly than someone with a wooden leg should be able to do. "Do you know any French?"
You look at him.
"I mean, obviously you did once," he says, "what with the accent, but do you remember it?"
"Of course I remember it," you say. "What for?"
"I only know the one song in French. I'd like to learn more of it."
Whether this is because of a certain French-speaking pirate captain with a hatred of cats, you can't confidently say, but it seems like a good guess.
"Well all right," you say. "Let's meet in the galley after dinner."
"What," Izzy says, "every night?"
"Mais oui," you say. "You're a beginner, you need intensive tutoring."
Izzy rolls his eyes, mostly just to make a point, but nods.
"I'll be seeing you," he says.
And if you had any doubt, it's erased over the next weeks, because Izzy is, without fail, in the galley after dinner, waiting to learn French. You're trying to think of a song to teach him on top of all the conversational basics, but you can't quite pin down something appropriate, not yet.
"It'll come to you," Izzy reassures you. "I have faith."
Thinking of his northern-English-accented French singing any song you like, you can't help but smile. Of course, you'll have to pull Frenchie in too, and Wee John for another look --
"I want something," Izzy starts, "something romantic." He clears his throat. "Just for me to sing, no accompaniment."
"No look?" you ask.
"No look," he confirms. "Just a love song."
His eyes dart to Frenchie so quickly you'd have missed it if you weren't looking for it.
Ah, you think. Unaccompanied indeed.
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raainy-daze · 2 years
Text
the longest movie marathon
platonic!rottmnt x gn!reader
summary: after your snow day had gone to all hell thanks to ghostbear, a very alarming piece of information came to light: you had never seen a jupiter jim movie. not a single one. that just wouldn’t do. you know what that means - movie night! [set after s1e23b, snow day]
word count: 916
a/n: first real post! i’m not sure how i feel about the writing on this one, but i tried. i’m also still on mobile (i’m probably going to be on mobile for a while) so again, formatting might be messed up. hope someone enjoys this!
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That morning, you had woken up to a fresh layer of snow over New York.
Needless to say, you were delighted. You were even more delighted when you received a text from Leo, asking to hang out with everyone at the park. You had a great time; you built a snowman, participated in a snowball fight, and the hot cocoa was great too!
Oh, and pro wrestling champion Ghostbear got mutated and attacked you, but that’s just a given.
However, throughout the day, the turtles and April kept arguing over movie rankings. Even Mayhem seemed to have an opinion (every time you saw him, that thing seemed more and more intelligent). It was pretty funny, actually. It all sounded so bizarre out of context. You thought they’d finally dropped it after freezing Ghostbear. You should’ve known better than that. Just as you were leaving, Leo made some comment, and it was back in full force.
“I’m sorry, but have you seen the special effects in JJ Sails the Seven Galaxies? It is absolutely HORRENDOUS-!”
“There is a REASON PV4 is the last Pluto Vacation!”
They’d been going on like this for nearly two blocks now. You were used to this sort of thing - hell, you were a part of this sort of thing when you understood the topic. The longer it went on, the more ridiculous the arguments got, and less comprehensible. You were starting to near your apartment, but they showed no signs of stopping.
“(Y/N)!”
“JEEZ-“ You stumbled, dropping the sled you’d been dragging behind you. You had not expected all of them to yell your name at once.
“You haven’t said anything-“
“All day!” Leo cut Donnie off. April jammed a hand over both of their mouths.
“You’re gonna settle this for us. Which is the better movie, Pluto Vacation 4-“
“- Or Sails the Seven Galaxies?” Raph finished.
There was a silence. They all stared, waiting for your reply.
“Dunno. I’ve never seen ‘em.”
“WHAT?!”
•°. *࿐
You’d gone years of your life without seeing even a single Jupiter Jim movie. According to the turtles, April, and (apparently) Mayhem, this was nothing less than a crime against sci-fi. Thus, movie night was scheduled.
One week later, you sat in the lair. Donnie was fiddling with the projector, which wasn’t turning on because Leo had unplugged it. You weren’t going to tell him that, of course. April was going over the ‘ground rules’ with you.
“Oh, and whatever you do, do NOT get attached to Planetary Percy, okay?”
“Why-“
“Don’t.”
The projection screen suddenly flickered to life. You turned around to see Donnie by the outlet, glaring at Leo.
“Gee. I wonder who could’ve done that.”
Watching the stare-off, you were just waiting for Donnie to throw something at him. Before that could occur, however, Mikey appeared from seemingly nowhere holding a pizza box.
“PIZZA! And plenty of other snacks waiting in the kitchen for whenever we’re ready!”
“Thanks, Mikey!” Everyone took a slice for themselves. Just as Leo was taking his, Donnie hit him in the back with a pillow.
“HEY-!”
Raph quickly snatched said pillow up from the ground and held it to his chest. You tuned the twins out and turned to Raph, who was sitting on the floor by the couch. “Where’s Splinter?”
“Oh, he doesn’t like Jupiter Jim. Lou Jitsu superiority, and all that.” Raph shrugged.
“Makes sense.”
“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen Jupiter Jim!” Mikey sat down next to you.
“Yeah, I mean, it seems like the kind of thing you’d be into.” April agreed. “Why’d you never watch it?”
You shrugged. “Spite.”
“Excuse me?”
“Spite. It’s like a game, seeing just how long you can go without it. It drives people insane, it’s funny.”
“You monster.”
“I know.” You grinned. “But I’ll watch it with you guys, if it’s really that important to you.”
“Aw, you do care about us!” You lightly kicked Raph’s arm.
“Are we going to start the movie or not?”
Within the next five minutes, Donnie finally got the very first Jupiter Jim movie set up. You were sandwiched in between April and Mikey, the latter of whom kept quoting lines as they were said. Every so often, Donnie would pipe up with some behind the scenes fun fact, or he’d explain some easter egg.
Jupiter Jim movies 1-3 was pretty decent as a trilogy.
Jupiter Jim: Pluto Vacation was mediocre.
Jupiter Jim Sails the Seven Seas was fantastic.
Jupiter Jim: Origins was fantastically bad.
You fell asleep during the holiday special - according to Leo, you didn’t really miss anything.
You spent all night watching every single movie in this ridiculously long franchise. You knew you’d regret it when you needed to do homework tomorrow, but in the moment, you had no regrets.
As the credits to Atomic Lass Returns rolled, you let out a long yawn. Everyone looked pretty tired - Mikey had fallen asleep on your shoulder three times already.
“And that’s the last one. Well, until May 23rd, when Atomic Lass Dies Again comes out,” Donnie announced.
You stretched, feeling a bone pop somewhere. “I’m pretty sure that was the longest movie marathon in my life.”
“Oh, probably.” April yawned. “But now that it’s over…”
Here we go again.
“Which is the best movie, (y/n)?”
What were you expecting, really? All eyes were on you, waiting for you to decide the fate of Jupiter Jim’s tier ranking.
“I like Invasion of the Squirrelanoids best, actually.”
“OH, COME O-“
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alieinthemorning · 4 months
Note
Hello!I already read your rules like 3 times but I made any mistake please tell me-
Anyway can I please request platonic headcanos of diasomnia family(mainly silver and lilia) with silver sibling!reader?reader is also adopted by Lilia and is not biologically related to silver,they are younger than him and have much more lively personality,they also get flustered easily.l and really care about their family
(I JUST NEED SOME WHOLESOME STUFF PLEASE)
Found Family [Diasomina Family]
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Content: Found Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Character(s), Familial Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Book 7 Part 3 Spoilers
Pronouns: None
Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!
This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.
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Lilia found you in the woods at a very young age. You were not far from his little cabin, sitting at the edge of the lake, peering into its waters.
"Are you lost, little one?"
You shook your head.
"Is your family nearby, then?"
You shook your head again. "They abandoned me. Told me to not return."
And that's all it took for him to take you in himself, he already had Silver, and he was doing well enough, surely another child wouldn't prove to be difficult.
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You were a quiet child, even more quiet than Silver. However, your eyes were much move expressive than you might have realized. You were some kind of Nocturnal Fae, perhaps of a long forgotten race because he had never seen another with eyes as interesting as yours.
When you didn't like something your pupils would become thin slits, and when there was something you liked they would grow considerable.
Lilia found that quite adorable.
He often found you and Silver outside, sitting against the largest tree in front of the cabin. Silver of course was asleep while you had a book in your lap.
"What are you reading, little one?"  Lilia asked as he sat down beside you.
"Ohana: A story about an animal who was shunned being different."
Another thing about you was that you were very blunt and up front. He assumed it was something you learned from your previous living situation.
You tilted your head, a small smile gracing your lips. "But then, after a few hardships, the animal found a family. Just like me—Like us."
Lilia smiled himself, resting a hand on your head. "Yes, just like us."
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Silver had an abundance of alarm clocks to help wake him up in the morning. However, none worked as good as you simply calling his name.
"Silver, it's time to wake up." His eyes always seemed to open easily, and found you immediately.
You gave him your usual small smile. "Good morning, Silver."
"Good morning."
And then you were gone while he got ready. Once he was done, he would find you indulging in your morning tea with Father, Lord Malleus and Sebek. Sebek was of course loudly praising Father and Lord Malleus, Lilia was going along with it while you and Malleus quietly sipped on your tea.
He took his spot next to you, and you immediately filled his cup, adding two sugar cubes. Just liked he liked it.
He thanked you with his usual smile as his body become more attune to the usual flow of life around him.
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Sebek didn't like you at first. You were weird. Your eyes were too sharp, it made him feel like you were staring through him. He also didn't like how you were seemingly better at everything than he (and Silver) was. You were better at swordsmanship, being able to pull off moves that Master Lilia had only shown once. And yet you never bragged about it (he disliked that about you too).
You were actually able to cook, so your training was cut short so that you could make them a meal for after training. And he hated to admit it, but your cooking was even better than his mother. However, as much as he disliked how good your meals were, he was also thankful that because of them he didn't have to eat Master Lilia's cooking.  You also seemed to rotate each of their favorite meals. You always seemed to remember the small things about them.
Even now, you approached him at lunch, two plates in hand.
"For you, Sebek." You placed a plate of salmon carpaccio in front of him. Then you woke Silver up before sitting down yourself.
He glanced away from you, swallowing his pride. "...Thank you."
"Think nothing of it."
He thought a lot of it.
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You and Malleus often found yourselves strolling the paths of Night Raven College in the dead of night when the students were in their dorms, the teachers had returned to their homes and the only nightlife was that of the ghosts and fairies.
Tonight, something was weighing heavily on him.
"What is on your mind, Malleus?"
He chuckled. He liked that about you. You always knew when something was amiss and would immediately hone in on it.
"I find myself thinking about what will happen after Silver departs from this world." He paused, "Sebek as well, as he is only half-fae."
You hummed. "They will die and we will live on. What is there to think about?" Your tone was flat— nonchalant.
Malleus glanced down at you.
Your pupils were sharp.
Ah, you were as effected as he was.
Then after a few more silent moments, you spoke up. "...I do understand that they won't be with me forever, so I must make the most out of the time I have with them now., so that I'm only left with fond memories of them."
Malleus felt his lips flicker upward as his gaze turned toward the starry sky.
"Yes, I suppose you are correct..."
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"To those I've met before, and to those I'll meet hereafter...
"Meet in a Dream."
Soft eyes met periwinkle.
"Good morning, Silver."
He helped you properly orientate. "We have to help Father and Malleus."
You nodded, "Yes, we have to save our family."
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You asked for headcanons, so I wrote snippets. 
A something that might have not been clear:
You're a kinda of ancient nocturnal fae who has a kind of dilating pupils. I wanted to also give you glowing eyes (more so like mood ring eyes lol), but I didn't want to give you an eye color, so I scrapped it (saving it for the OC ig because I SURE HAVE BRAINWORMS OVER THIS CHARACTER SOMEHOW, ANON HOW DID YOU GIVE ME BRAIN WORMS LOL)
Peep the few references btw lol
Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist
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Would you write for Hawkeye? If so my song is ‘Que Sera Sera’. If not, please could you do it with Loki instead? :D x
Of My Own
This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!
Song Prompt: Que Sera Sera
Pairing: Clint Barton x reader (platonic, no pronouns used)
Word Count: 770
CW: Minor swearing, hospitals
Note: Thank you for your request! I thought this little story fit quite nicely with the feel and lyrics of the song. I hope you love it too 💜
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“It’s gonna be okay, Clint,” you murmured with firm eyes fixed on the console and knuckles turning pale and sore around the controls.
One of Clint’s hands shielded his eyes, the other clutched his stomach. “This is controlled airspace, you-”
“You think I give a rat’s ass about controlled airspace right now?” You tensed further, pushing the chopper close to its limits. The cockpit rumbled with the speed. Air resistance felt different when it was holding you back from the hospital. It felt like an enemy.
Curse the atmosphere, you had places to be.
Clint made a concerning noise from the jump seat and you felt the weight of the moment. “We’re gonna make it,” you promised in a whisper. He clutched his stomach tighter. “Hold it in, Barton.”
You could sense his eyes were closed behind his hand. This was a new kind of anxiety - one you hadn’t seen from him in all the years he was your partner.
“Just get me there in one piece,” was what he managed to mutter out before you jammed a finger onto the comms transmitter.
“HAWK32, hotel-alpha-whiskey-kilo-three-two, requesting permission to land on MercyOne helipad. Two minutes out. Repeat, hotel-alpha-whiskey-kilo-three-two, requesting permission to land. Over.”
The silence that followed was unsettling but you surged ahead, knowing you weren’t really asking permission. You’d land this chopper on that hospital roof come hell or high water.
“MercyOne air traffic control to HAWK32. Permission granted. Can you advise condition of the patient? Over.”
You’d way overestimated the amount of time it would take to land since you’d never pushed the bird this hard. “Thank you, control. HAWK32 approaching to land. Patient is not with us. HAWK32 out.”
Your fingers found the volume and turned it all the way down before they could question you. Clint forced a wry smile from the corner of your eye. He was white as a sheet. “You’re gonna be okay, Clint,” you called over the whizz of the air shifting and swiping all around the cabin. “You’re gonna be great, in fact.”
The helicopter touched down with less finesse than usual, but you got the job done. Clint was frozen in place, perhaps a bit shocked. You didn’t turn the engine off, reaching over to start unclipping his seatbelt but he seemed to realise this was really happening. He freed himself, giving you one final and severe look before bolting out of the chopper and towards the hospital wards.
Your anticipating smile lingered after him. Only after he disappeared into the building did you take off again, on a mission to bring the helicopter back to a S.H.I.E.L.D-sanctioned hangar.
It was a couple of hours before you made your way back to the hospital, but that was okay; Clint was going to be great. You didn’t doubt that for a second. He was always great.
Still, that didn’t do much to ease the incessant bouncing off your leg in the waiting room as you tried and failed to focus on anything else.
After another hour or two, and a few cardboard cups of terrible hospital coffee, an older nurse entered the waiting room to call your name. You stood at once, almost spilling the granulated coffee remnants, and looked to her with something of a question in your glance. Her smile-framed brown eyes were warm and relieved behind her mask, and she said you were welcome to come in and visit.
The walk to the room was the longest you’d had in your life, but you’d climb Everest to live that moment all over again: that moment you entered the room to see the most perfect picture for the first time.
Clint looked over at you, beaming. Laura, from the hospital bed, looked over with the fondness of an old friend and welcomed you in. The image of the two of them was familiar enough, but there was something new to add to that portrait.
“Hey,” Clint grinned at you, though, mostly at the tiny bundle in his arms.
He turned to give you a better view of the little piece of heaven wrapped up in cotton. Something in you swelled at the sight of the tiny nose and the tiny rise and fall of steady breathing from beneath the white fabric.
You breathed out a “wow,” before taking a step forward, eyes beginning to blur with the joy of the moment.
Clint locked looks with you only for a second to say, “This is Lila,” before turning back to his daughter, cocooned in a love so tangible it reminded you of the way the sky wrapped you two up safely and delivered him here for this moment.
He already acted like the most natural parent in the world. You grinned.
He was going to be great.
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star-centric · 3 months
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Thank you! I'd be happy to request! I'd love a story with Mina Ashido x gn!reader (platonic if that's alright). Reader hasn't got a good sense of fashion, though they've always admired Mina for her expressiveness. Reader asks Mina for fashion advice, and Mina is delighted to help out. Is something like that okay?
PAIRING: Mina Ashido x Gender!Neutral Reader
NOTE: Yes this is so cute!! Sorry this took so long 💔 I had writers block for a good minute lol but hopefully that’s over with!
CW: fluff, platonic, SFW, gender neutral reader, reader’s a little insecure but is trying
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Sometimes you found yourself envious of Mina.
She was always confident, had no hard times making friends, and had a fashion sense- something that you severely lacked. Living in the dorms and being around your classmates made that very obvious.
You wanted to be like Mina in a sense. You didn’t want to keep being holed in your room, avoiding going out with them. You didn’t want to keep missing game nights because you were worried what they would say about your outfit. You wanted to have fun too.
You wanted to express yourself freely and be comfortable in your own skin like the others were.
And you knew the one person that could help.
“Fashion advice?”
“Yeah.” You sheepishly answered, looking everywhere but at Mina. “My wardrobe is a little…outdated, to say the least. But I don’t know how to exactly fix it. And I know that you have a really great fashion sense so I was wondering if you could…help me?”
You would have continued rambling but you felt hands pace up with your own before you could.
“Of course I would love to help!” You swear that you saw literal sparkles in her eyes. “I have so many ideas on what we could do. I saw something the cutest outfit the other day that I think would look perfect on you-”
Mina’s excitement outshone your own right now, as she was already thinking of new things for you to try. When she let out a gasp, you were starting to get a little worried.
“We can go shopping!” She squealed. You didn’t have a chance to even respond before you were pulled out of her room and rushed down the hallway.
“We can’t waste any time- I know the first place we can go to!”
You looked different.
The outfit Mina had you try was…nice. Really nice. Like hard to take your eyes off of yourself nice. All of the outfits she had you try on was stunning- and it was hard to believe that the person in the mirror was you.
“Sooooo- what do you think?”
“I love it!” Mina’s excitement was contagious, and it was hard to wipe the smile off of your face. It was a breath of fresh air to see yourself like this. It felt refreshing- you finally felt comfortable.
“Good- me too! I love the way the colors pop against your skin, and the way they bring your eyes out too. This one we have to leave with.”
“You said that for the last 3 outfits.”
“Because they all look so good on you duh- and they’re on sale! No way we’re we gonna pass on this.” Mina grabbed the bundle of clothes hanging on the dressing room door. “Meet me at the register when you’re ready!”
You don’t know how much time passed at the mall, but by the time you both were leaving the sun was beginning to set. The total surprisingly wasn’t that bad, and you both walked out with plenty of bags in each hand. But you felt light- it felt empowering. You can’t remember how long it’s been since you felt like this.
“Thanks again for tagging along, Mina. I really do appreciate it.”
“Of course! Shopping is my forte so it was never an issue. Besides, you seemed kinda down lately so I’m glad this was able to help you feel better.”
That made you stop in your tracks. She noticed? You wanted to lie and try to play it off, but all you could do was stumble over your words.
“It’s not hard to notice when you’re cooped in your room 24/7.”
Which was…true. She wasn’t wrong. You still felt a bit embarrassed though. Mina didn’t let you linger on your thoughts, skirting in front of you. She gently called your name.
“You don’t have to be alone all the time. We’re all here for you- I’m here for you. There’s nothing wrong with you either.”
“I…I know Mina.” You knew she was telling the truth, but your mind made it hard to believe them. But, today was the first step in making that change. You took a deep breath, willing yourself to be more confident. “I know.”
“You had fun today right?”
You nodded, it’s been a while since you smiled so much.
“So let’s keep hanging out then- today doesn’t have to be the only day we do this either. I’m always open to shopping, and we could always do more stuff in the common room with everyone. I just don’t want you to think you’re alone because you’re not.”
“I really want that too.”
Your words were sincere, and while it would take baby steps, you were ready for the new changes that would start to make yourself look- and feel better too.
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theaspsaroaceimagines · 2 months
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Can We Make This Work?
Warning: spoilers for episode 6
A/N: This was requested on wattpad and is tangentially related to my fic, An Angel in Demon's Clothing, but takes place in a separate continuity.
The reader is a mortal angel who volunteered to go to Hell to help with Charlie's redemption project. Charlie and Vaggie are the only ones in Hell who know the reader is an angel, and the reader's mission is a secret that Adam and Lute don't know about.
Song is from Journey to Bethlehem.
--
You'd returned to the Hotel earlier than the others, overwhelmed by Consent's loud music and bright lights.  Not to mention the many, many flirtatious demons making passes at you.  So you were the only one around when Charlie and Vaggie returned from their meeting.
They returned a bit sooner than you would have thought they would.  That's the first red flag.
"You're back early!" you observe, puzzled, and approach the two demonesses slowly.
Immediately, Charlie distances herself from Vaggie, a look of panic and betrayal in her eyes.  "Why didn't you tell me you were an angel?  An exorcist?!" she wails.
You blink in shocked silence.  Vaggie is an angel?  Why hadn't you met her before you came down here?
Vaggie tries to approach Charlie, holding her hands out in a soothing gesture, but the demon princess only backs away.
Slowly, you shake yourself out of your stupor.  "Wait, what's going on?  Why are you guys back so early?"
The two shoot their gazes to you, as if they'd only just noticed your presence.  Vaggie looks anxious and somewhat defeated, and Charlie is nothing short of distressed.  Charlie runs to you, crushing you in a desperate hug, before dragging you up to the Hotel's penthouse suite.
Leaving Vaggie behind.
You're growing more concerned by the second.  "Charlie, what happened?" you ask, stumbling beside her as she continues to cling to you.
She bursts into tears, gripping you tighter.  "They wouldn't listen!" she sobs, "Adam wouldn't listen!  Vaggie's an exorcist and has been lying to me this whole time!"  She releases you, turning to pace around the suite in a tearful panic.  "And the meeting was a disaster!  The Angels don't even know what it takes to get into Heaven! And now the extermination is in a month, and Adam says he's coming for the Hotel first!"
The last bit of news shakes you to the core and you blanch.  "What?  Why?  Why would he do that?!  Is he even allowed to make targeted attacks?"  You try to calm yourself.  Panicking won't help, Charlie needs you calm.
You hear a thump, and whip your head around to see that Charlie has fallen to her knees by one of the windows.
"How could I be," she sings in a soft, defeated voice, "Oh, so naive?"  She wipes at her face with her sleeve as you approach to try to comfort her.
"Foolishly thinking there's more to this life for me," She tearfully looks out the window with a doleful expression as it begins to acid rain on the hellscape below, before glancing back at you.  "Two broken hearts," she lilts, holding a loose fist to her chest, "Right from the start,"
She turns away from the window and curls up in dejection, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms over them, "Watching the dreams that we have as they fall apart,"
You pause in your efforts, hit with the overwhelming emotion emanating from the princess you've come to know as your friend.
"This will never work," her voice sounds almost bitter as she sings, burying her face into her knees, "Even trying feels insane.  This will only hurt,"
She turns her head, looking at you expectantly, "Don't you feel the same?"
You sigh.  "I feel it too," you admit, joining her in song and making the last few steps to her side, "But what can I do?"
You kneel down next to her, gazing at her from the corner of your eye, "I'm just the stranger they say is the one for you,"
"Maybe with time," you sing, taking Charlie's hand in yours, thinking about Adam, your home in Heaven, and the second home you have in Hell, "Something will change?   Making the best of this might be the only way.
"Can we make this work?" you stand, gently helping Charlie up as you do.  Looking out the window yourself, you take in the oddly beautiful landscape of Hell.  
Charlie joins in and the two of you sing together: "Even trying feels insane."
"Maybe when it hurts," your eyes and voice harden with determination.  Things seem grim, but you aren't giving up on your mission.  Both Heaven and Hell depend on it.  You turn to face Charlie, "We'll be worth the pain."
"There are too many questions, Too little time," Charlie points out.  "Too much to ask for, The rest of my life."
You join in with her in agreement, both of you singing, "It's a mountain too high to climb,
"Too many voices filling me with doubt," the two of you can hear them: Adam, Lute, Alastor, the newscasters at 666 News, Sera, even your first patient, Angel Dust.  "Can you hear them now?"
"It's hard to have faith," you admit.
"It's hard to believe," Charlie agrees.
"Our future holds more Than what we can see," you sing together.
You take Charlie's hands, "We have to trust what we don't understand," you resolve, and Charlie joins in;
"It could be a part of God's plan."
"Can we," you sing, pulling Charlie into a dance, hoping to encourage her.
"Can we," Charlie echoes, falling into step.
"Make this,"
"Make this,"
"Work?" you finish together, before twirling around,  "I know trying feels insane."
"Maybe," you lead the princess of Hell in graceful steps, freeing your true angelic wings.  They give off a silvery shine as the two of you dance together.
"Maybe," you can see the stars, feel the cosmos.
"When it," 
"When it," God's Plan would come together with time.
"Hurts," the two of you sing with resolve, "We'll be worth the pain!"
"Can we make this work?" you pull Charlie into a hug as the two of you wrap up the song, "Can we make this work?"
You tuck your true wings away as you end your dance, sending Charlie a gentle smile as their light disappears.
"We'll get through this," you tell her, "I don't know how yet, but we'll get through this."
"Okay," Charlie breathes.
"We should talk to Vaggie," you give a gentle suggestion, "I didn't know she was an angel, either; I've never met her in my time in Heaven, but I'm sure she had an at least somewhat good reason to hide it.  Besides, she's probably having a rough time right now."
"You're probably right," Charlie admits reluctantly.
You give her a wry smile, "Come on, there's no way to fix this without communication."
So you and the princess of Hell leave the suite with a new resolve.
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writinginatree · 4 months
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John Wick x daughter!reader - Dog is the Best Babysitter
Summary: After the events of the first movie, John is back home with his and Helen's little daughter. She escapes into the garden when John isn't looking for a second, and he panics, fearing someone might have kidnapped her. Dog is the bestest boy and saves the day.
Warnings: Mentions of Helen's and Daisy's deaths, kidnapping and panic attacks
John walks into the living room, Y/N's little plastic plate with an apple he cut for her in hand, only to find the room empty. That alone wouldn't be a big deal, but when he calls for her and doesn't get a response he grows anxious.
He calls again. Still no response.
He checks her room, and finds it empty too. He expected that much, after all she was in the living room just a minute ago, and he would have surely heard her if she'd come past him on the way to her room. But then where is she? The bathroom door is open; she's not in there, either.
A few minutes later John has searched the whole house without finding his daughter anywhere, and is inches away from a full-blown panic attack.
Someone must have taken her. 
Tarasov maybe? Would he be that stupid, after John made peace with him? He certainly wasn't pleased about Viggo's and Iosef's deaths, but to John he didn't seem like someone longing for revenge when he went to see him. No, he looked like a man who knows exactly what — who — he's dealing with, a man fearing for his life. He wouldn't make the mistake of getting involved with John again, especially not so soon after getting away with his life.
But John knows he took a risk by getting revenge for the death of the puppy Helen left them. Winston was right to warn him — some people might not have liked it that he came back to get revenge and then disappeared again. They might want him to come back for good.
Could someone have kidnapped Y/N to archive that? Of course. He knows plenty of people ruthless enough to try that. He can even think of a few who might have particularly strong reasons to want him back in, and would be willing to take drastic measures. But could they have really pulled it off? He was right there in the kitchen, surely he would have heard something. As small as she is, Y/N wouldn't have let anyone carry her away without making a sound. She would have called for him if a stranger suddenly appeared in their house. And the dog! She'd goaded him into hopping on the couch again, and had been using him as a pillow when John went to the kitchen to cut an apple for her. He hadn't heard so much as a single bark from him. No, it's impossible anyone got into the house and stole his daughter without him hearing anything.
But then where the hell is she?! Neither girl nor dog are anywhere to be seen.
The pitbull follows Y/N wherever she goes, and John tries to reassure himself with the thought that nothing could have possibly happened to her with Boy by her side. It doesn't help much, but he takes a deep breath and forces himself to look around again more calmly, and sees that the door to the garden is ajar. He opened it earlier to let in some fresh air, but hadn't it been open all the way? Maybe the wind partially closed it... Or maybe someone went through it.
John steps outside and looks around, hoping to see any sign of his daughter. Nothing. She's nowhere in sight. He can't see any signs pointing to someone having been there and taken her, either, but that's only a small relief.
He needs to find her. If something happened to her... No, he can't even think of that. He mustn't imagine her little body as pale and lifeless as Helen's was when they laid her to rest. He'll drive himself mad if he does.
"Y/N!"
There's no response from the girl, but he hears a bark, and seconds later Dog comes bounding around the corner. He runs up to John, happily wagging his tail and not looking worried in the slightest. Now John is almost certain there are no intruders on the property — as docile as the pitbull generally is, he's already grown fiercely protective of his little human in the short time they've had him. He can't stand it when anyone he doesn't know and trust gets anywhere near her, and wouldn't be acting so calm if anything was wrong with her.
A little calmer himself now, John leans down to pet the dog's head and says, "Where'd you leave Y/N? Come on, Boy, show me where she is."
Dog's ears perk up when he hears Y/N's name. John often feels like the animal understands everything he says, and sure enough he barely finished his sentence when Boy starts back into the direction he came from, looking back at John after a few steps as if making sure he follows — which he does, of course.
They go around the house and toward some bushes and trees, and there, hidden behind the scrub, Y/N sits in a pile of leaves, playing with her toy-cars.
With a few quick steps, John is beside her and snatches her up from the ground, squeezing her against his chest. She squeaks in surprise before wrapping her little arms around his neck to hug him back, and John is so relieved she's okay he almost starts crying.
"Here you are," he says. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"
"Did I do something wrong, daddy?" She slightly leans back in his arms to stare at him with wide eyes, and John is reminded of how confusing the events of the last weeks must have been for her. First her mother's illness and death, then the death of the puppy she'd left them — which to Y/N just disappeared, since she luckily didn't have to witness what happened that night — and John leaving her in Winston's care while he 'dealt with some things'.
"No, honey. I just got a little scared because I didn't know where you are. Next time tell me if you want to go outside, okay?"
"Uh-huh. Sorry. I wasn't hiding on purpose."
"I know, it's okay. Just remember not to go anywhere without telling me, alright?"
She nods, snuggling against him and driving the toy-car she's still holding up and down his arm. She's okay. Of course she is. Nobody would be stupid enough to hurt her. But John will keep an even closer eye on her from now on all the same. Just in case, and to spare himself further panic attacks.
When John sets her back down on her feet, Y/N decides the dog should get a hug too. Boy licks her face in return, until she's giggling and taking a step backwards, only to ungraciously sit down in her pile of leaves again. The dog, which she had taken to calling Daisy after John continuously neglected to properly name him, plops down beside her, resting his head on her legs. He seems content enough with the name, and has started reacting to Daisy as well as to Dog and Boy. That's fine by John. He's not overly fond of the memories coming to mind every time he hears the name, but luckily Y/N has no idea what exactly happened with the first Daisy — she just accepted John's explanation that the puppy was with Helen now. Y/N loves the name — mainly because she knows it was her mom who picked it for the first Daisy, John supposes — and as long as she's happy, John is happy, too.
"Let's go back inside now."
"Already?"
"You wanted to eat an apple, remember? You can play outside some more later, when Aurelio comes to get the car."
"Will he make it whole again?"
"Yeah."
At least John hopes his friend will be able to fix the car. It's in pretty bad condition, but John is sure he's seen — and caused — worse.
Y/N can be a little shy at times, and John was worried it might be even worse after how turbulent and scary the last weeks were for her, but while she does cling to John's leg when Aurelio shows up, she waves at him and soon is completely at ease again, running around the driveway with Dog while the men talk. Of course Aurelio isn't a complete stranger to her — John went to him whenever something had to be done on the Mustang, and brought Y/N along to meet his old friend.
Meanwhile Aurelio is shaking his head over the state of the car, clearly exasperated at John for damaging it like this after going to such lengths to get it back. "John, what the hell? I thought you love this car!"
John sighs. "Spare me the lecture, Y/N already scolded me enough. The kid sure wasn't happy with me when she saw what happened. I had to promise her you can fix it."
Not happy is the understatement of the century, of course. She burst into tears and refused to talk to him until he convincingly assured her the Mustang can be fixed, and promised to take her on an extra long and extra extra fast drive once it is. She loves going for drives, and the faster the better. Helen always used to joke that their little girl liked John better than her, simply because he had the faster car and was more apt to ignore the speed limit once in a while when Y/N begged to go faster.
As if on cue the girl appears beside them again, apparently bored of playing catch with Boy. She looks up at Aurelio with big puppy eyes rivaling those of the dog beside her, and asks if the car is hurt very bad.
"Mh-hm, it's got a few big ouchies. But I can fix it."
Y/N hugs Aurelio's leg, beaming up at him, and he pats her head. "You make sure your dad treats that car more carefully after I fix it, alright?"
She nods, and John has a feeling she'll be taking that duty very seriously when they get the car back.
"Is it gonna take long?"
Aurelio grimaces, and keeps his answer vague so as not to disappoint the girl. John knows how he feels. Looking into her hopeful eyes, the thought of telling her she has to be patient because it'll take awhile until they can go for a ride in the Mustang again is almost physically painful.
She's not satisfied with his answer, of course — she's nothing if not persistent. To dodge her questions of how long not that long is, Aurelio grins and tells her she could ride on Dog until they get the car back.
John groans. "Don't give her ideas!"
But it's too late. She's already turning to the pitbull, who patiently holds still as she tries to take a seat on his back. John quickly picks her up, much to her dismay.
"Hey! Wanna ride Daisy!"
"You can't do that, sweetheart. Aurelio was just joking."
"Why can't I?"
"He's not big enough to carry you," John explains as he sets her down a few feet away from the dog. He could have saved himself the effort, however, as Boy follows and sits down right beside Y/N again. "A dog isn't a horse, he's not meant to carry people. You'd just fall off."
"You carry me then," she demands with a pout.
John can't bring himself to tell her no, and picks her back up with a sigh. Then he turns back to Aurelio. "Let me know when it's fixed."
He nods, lifting a hand to wave as John heads back into the house with his daughter. "Alright. It'll be ready Christmas... 2030."
Y/N is too busy waving to hear. "Bye 'elio!"
"Bye, kiddo."
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jamiedc-they-them · 7 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.
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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.
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Bring Your Kid To Work Day (BAU x Single Dad!Reader)
This turned out exceedingly long but I couldn't get the idea out of my head so I just had to write it out. I personally really wanna be a dad one day (with or without a partner) and seeing how the BAU parents handle their kids always warms my heart so much.
Wordcount: 5.4k
warning: kidnapping
Summery: Being a single dad is hard. Like really hard, and you thought that maybe bringing your son with you into work just once would be okay. Especially when his school was shut down but...
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The blaring of the alarm woke you up from sweet elusive sleep.
You debated letting it ring but your arm went out to expertly turn it off.
7:09 A.M.
you wiped the sleep from your eyes and grabbed your phone from beside your alarm clock, being greeted by the single worst email you could have ever gotten. Your son's daycare was closed.
Your son attended a small local daycare, the entire facility had three teachers and two other employees, all off which —along with most of the kids as of recently— had come down with the flu. You sighed, discarding any thought of getting yourself ready before you found a solution to your childcare problem.
You had to be at Quantico in two hours and the drive alone took almost an hour. You called every single babysitter you knew, you were desperate but none were able to come by on such short notice so for lack of a better option you got yourself ready as fast as you could and went to wake up your son for a trip to Quantico. You just hoped it wouldn't bite you in the ass.
When you finally walked through the glass doors of the BAU offices you were half an hour late and carrying a sleeping four year old on your hip along with a baby bag over your shoulder to go with your usual briefcase.
Your out of sorts appearance got the attention of your coworkers and while you tried to put everything away by your desk and balance your still sleeping son in your arms, Morgan came up to you.
"What's all this L/N?" He asked and you turned and smiled at him, a smile that looked more insane than kind.
"This, is my son who is still sleeping from the drive because his daycare is closed and I couldn't get a sitter in time" You said, an underlying warning tone to your words.
"What you forgot to book a sitter?" Reid asked from his place at his desk.
"I didn't forget, they just sent the email this morning. All three teachers came down with the flu... along with most of the class" You explained and Spencer scooted away from you and the sleeping boy in your arms.
"Calm down Reid, this kid's immune system is like something out of a comic book, he's fine." You said as the rest of your teammates came over to join the scene.
JJ along with Rossi coming to join the gaggle of profilers ignoring their work for the far more interesting show of their coworker with his son.
"Did you talk to Hotch about it? I mean, about him being here" JJ asked, pointing to the toddler in your arms and you nodded. As a fellow single parent Hotch understood enough to give you the okay to bring your son to work, after all it was supposed to just be a slow day to get paperwork done.
Just then he began to stir in your arms and you decided to sit down, adjusting the four year old so that he was sitting comfortably in your lap.
"Hey buddy, good morning" You said, moving some stray hair behind his ear so it wouldn't bother him.
The toddler didn't seem to enjoy being awake though, instead choosing to burrow his head into the crook of your neck, much to the amusement of the rest of the team.
"He's a cute little guy, I'll give you that" Rossi said and you chuckled. He really is.
"He is but he's also a menace once he really wakes up, I'm sorry ahead of time for that. He's a curious little thing and he still doesn't understand boundaries, like at all" You say, grimacing knowing in only a little bit you son would surely be running around trying to find everything he could play with in the bullpen.
Honestly the more you thought about it the worse of an idea bringing him to work was, not that you had much of a choice. It was that or take the day off and that wouldn't have been ideal either.
"Developmentally that's actually completely normal, kids can't actually conceptualize the concept of another person with no interest in them until they're a bit older—" Reid started to explain but Rossi cuts him off.
"You can take my office. That way the little sucker has a limited space to wreak havoc in" He said and you looked at him gratefully.
"You really don't have to do that" You said but he shook his head.
"Don't worry about it, it'll help all of us in the long run, just try not to let him trash the place" He said and you smiled.
"Thank you" You said and were about to transfer your files to his office when Morgan suddenly grabbed your baby bag and briefcase.
"Let me help" He said and you smiled again, thanking him and taking your still groggy toddler up the stairs and to Rossi's office.
About an hour later you went down to get yourself some coffee. It was the first time you left Rossi's office since you got settled and the italian man came up to you to see how everything was going. He'd moved his own paperwork to your desk in the meantime.
"How's the pipsqueak?" He asked and you smiled, pointing with your head to the office.
"He's great, drawing quietly on the floor— and don't worry if he gets crayons on your floor I'll clean it up" You hurried to say but Dave didn't look worried.
"Don't worry about it, are you managing to get anything done?" He asked.
"Yeah, he explored the office for a bit but now he's good. Thanks again by the way, it's a huge help" You said and Dave patted you on the back.
"That's good" He said but turned once he saw his office door open in his peripheral and you heard the soft pitter patter of small feet running down the stairs.
"Daddy! Daddy! Look what I drew!" Your son yelled as he ran into your legs and shoved a piece of paper into your hands.
"It's you and me in your office" He said, showing you the picture of a crudely drawn man and child holding hands in an office.
You bent down to look at the drawing at his level.
"That's wonderful sweetie but it's not my office, you see Mr. Rossi is letting me work in his office while you're here with me at work" You explained and pointed to Dave who gave a small wave at the boy.
"Hey buddy" He said and your son gave a small wave back.
The little guy's running got the attention of the rest of the team including one eccentric technical analyst.
"Well what do we have here?" Garcia asked as she along with Reid and JJ came up to the three of you.
"Aren't you a little cutie" Garcia said, kneeling down to pinch your son's cheeks.
"Guys, this is my son Danny, Danny these are my friends Ms. Garcia, Ms. Jereu and Doctor Reid, and of course Mr. Rossi whos letting us use his office" You said introducing the team to your son but also your son to your coworkers.
"You look a little old to be friends with my Dad" Danny told Rossi and the rest of the team that had gathered around burst out laughing.
"Danny! We don't say that. That's very rude" You scolded him but he looked confused.
"But he looks old, like grandpa" Danny said and you had to hold back from laughing because he had a point.
"Danny, those are the kinds of thoughts we keep inside our heads, not outside" You told him and he nodded. It was a conversation you'd had multiple times before and was easier for him to understand than social rules at this stage.
"Can you apologize to Mr. Rossi?" You asked and he did exactly that.
"I'm sorry" He said and Rossi smiled.
"It's fine kid, I am a relic of a better time" Rossi said humorously.
"Hey Danny do you wanna see something cool?" Garcia asked and that got the four year olds attention.
"Yeah!" He yelled and you were about to remind him to use his inside voice when instead Garcia took his hand and lead him to her famously cool batcave. But of course just as things were going fine the universe had to turn the tables.
"Guys, conference room now, we have a case" Hotch said, coming out of his office and you sighed.
The rest of the assembled team looked at you before heading to the conference room, leaving you alone with Rossi.
"Well that's just great" You said, massaging your temple.
"It'll be fine, we all understand if you stay back this time" Rossi said, walking with you to the round table room.
"I still feel bad about it" You said.
You were about to grab Hotch to tell him you'd do exactly what Rossi suggested when Reid came up to you. He hadn't actually entered the conference room yet and had heard your short conversation.
"You're gonna stay back?" He asked you.
"It's not like I have much of a choice, what am I gonna do? take him with us?" You asked and though it was rhetorical Reid answered.
"You could. You could stay at the local precinct and help me with the geographic profile" The younger man said.
"Reid, I can't just bring bring a four year old with me on a case" You tried to explain.
"But it's obvious you can work while he's around. Besides not having you there with us would throw off the entire balance of the team" To a point he was right. You'd been with the BAU for over a decade and in that time you'd only missed a small handful of cases (most of which because you were too sick to work). The team was used to relying on you.
"Besides most hotels have babysitting services and we'll be there to help you" He continued.
"I'm really not sure, it was enough of a stretch just to bring him here" You tried to say but Hotch came out to tell you both to join the team.
"Hotch—" You started to say but he cut you off.
"I heard part of the conversation, do whatever you feel comfortable doing but your input on this case would be invaluable. The decision is up to you but I'd appreciate it if you joined us for the briefing anyways" He said and you nodded.
"Okay, I'll just go get Danny set up" You said.
"Garcia already set him up with markers and coloring pages in Rossi's office" He said and you nodded, taking a deep breath you joined them for the briefing.
As soon as Hotch began introducing the case you realized why he said your input specifically would be useful. Someone was abducting parents in Seattle but had recently changed his MO and began abducting the kids with them and most recently, just a kid. Hence why the BAU were called in and Hotch was hoping to use your experience from the crimes against children unit to work the case. You'd worked in crimes against children for 6 years before joining the BAU and had the most experience working child abductions. If the unsub had started going after kids you were the the best person for the case. Except of course that you had your own child to worry about.
"Wheels up in 30" Hotch said as everyone dispersed and you went to tell him your decision.
"I'm going with you" You told him.
"And Danny?" He asked.
"If it's okay with you I'll bring him with me. He's a well behaved kid, he won't bother us, I promise" You explained and Hotch nodded.
"Okay" He said.
When you told Danny he would be coming with you he was over the moon. Of course he didn't really understand what you would be there to do but he was so excited he was jumping around Rossi's office.
"Do I get a badge like you do daddy?" He asked and you chuckled.
"Yeah, we can get you your own badge if you want but you have to be on your very best behavior okay buddy?" You asked and he nodded feverently.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" He said.
He was so excited when he saw the jet and then even more so when you pulled a few strings to let him sit with the pilot in the cockpit (mostly so he wouldn't hear the team discuss the details of the case and their theories).
When you made it to the local precinct Danny was so tired from the six hour journey he couldn't walk on his own so you carried him in your arms. You could feel the strange looks of the local officers but you didn't care instead you found a small couch you could lay Danny on until he woke up.
"What's with the kid?" The detective in charge of the case asked Hotch.
"For agent L/N to be here he has to as well" Hotch said and the detective nodded, mostly because you were approaching and he didn't want to be rude and continue asking questions.
"Agent L/N, this is detective Alden, detective this is SSA Y/N L/N" Hotch introduced and you shook detective Alden's hand. "It's nice to meet you" You said, the rest of the team were already divvying up the work with Reid starting a geographic profile, JJ and Morgan going to analyze the most recent crime scene and Rossi at the ME's looking at the the most recent body. This of course left you and hotch to interview the family of the most recent missing child.
"Do you uh— need anything for the kid?" Detective Alden asked.
"No thank you, Doctor Reid's keeping an eye on his as he's working while Agent Hotchner an I interview the family" You explained and the detective nodded.
"Right, well the most recent vic's parents are waiting in an interview room if you wanna talk to them" The detective said and pointed you in the direction of the room.
Spencer was so far into his mind he didn't even realize that Danny (whom was resting on a couch in the room with him) had woken up until he suddenly felt a pull at his tie.
Looking down, it was Danny. The little boy was wiping the sleep from his eyes as he started to speak.
"Where's my dad?" He asked. Spencer smiled and turned to give the boy his full attention.
"Your dad's working right now but he'll be back soon. Do you need something? Are you thirsty? Hungry?" He asked and Danny nodded.
"I want juice" He said and Spencer smiled, remembering you'd told him everything he'd need would be in the baby bag.
"Do you know in what pocket your dad keeps the juice?" Spencer asked but Danny shook his head.
"That's alright, we'll find it together" He said.
Once they did, spencer helped stick the straw into Danny's juice box and gave it to him along with some pretzels he found tucked away with other snacks in the same pocket.
"What were you doing?" Danny asked.
"Oh— I was creating geographic profile" Spencer answered and Danny tilted his head in confusion.
"What's that?" He asked.
"Well it's one of the things we do to find out more about the bad guy we're trying to catch" Spencer said, trying to keep it as kid friendly as possible.
"Are you trying to catch a bad guy now? Is that what my dad is doing?" Danny asked and Spencer nodded.
"Yeah, it's what all of us do" He said and that got Danny excited.
"Does that mean I get to help catch a bad guy?" The little boy asked and Spencer started to sweat, he didn't want to disappoint the boy by telling him was in fact not going to catch the bad guy but he didn't know what else to say. He wasn't going to lie.
"Well..."
"Reid!" Hotch called from outside the room and Spencer had never been happier to see what was going on.
"Just a moment Danny" He said and went to talk to his boss.
"Another body was just found behind the North Star diner on Greenwood Avenue" Hotch said.
"The most recent abductee?" Spencer asked.
"Local PD haven't ID'd him yet but it looks like it" Hotch answered.
"Greenwood is only 1.8 miles from here, it's way outside his comfort zone"
"I know, see if there's any connection between there and any of the other locations" Hotch instructed and Reid nodded, getting back to work.
"Dr. Reid, I'm bored" Danny said once he re-entered the room. For a second Reid completely forgot the four year old was even there.
"Don't you wanna draw?" Reid asked.
"Not anymore" The toddler said, shaking his head.
"I want my daddy" He said.
"Uh, well—" Almost as if on cue one of the rookie local officers came in with you and Danny ran into your leg. Meanwhile the rookie gave Reid some files Garcia had sent over.
"Daddy!" Danny said and you smiled, petting his head.
"Hey buddy, have you been good for Dr. Reid?" You asked and he nodded.
"But I'm really bored." Danny said.
"Well I have to work but maybe you and officer Parker can go to the library across the street? Get something to read?" You suggested. Officer Parker had brought in the parents of the most recent victim. She'd only been on the force for a week and you could tell she was a bit faint when it came to this case.
"Okay!" Danny said and went over to the rookie cop.
"Are you sure?" Officer Parker asked and you nodded.
"Call me if you need anything" You said, you trusted her enough to spend half an hour with Danny and the library was only a two minute walk from the station. Besides you had to go to the crime scene and Reid was obviously out of his depth trying to both work and entertain a four year old.
"Alright" She said and led Danny out of the precinct.
"You seem a lot calmer" Reid pointed out.
"we're getting closer to getting this guy and that means we can get back to D.C sooner" You admitted and he nodded.
When you got back from the crime scene you were able to finally give the profile.
The entire team along with most of the precinct were assembled and Morgan started you off.
"We believe our unsub is a white man in his late thirties to early forties with some kind of fantasy revolving around parenthood."
"He's moved on from kidnapping parents alone to parents along with their kids and most recently just the kid. This means his fantasy's evolving and with it his MO. The first victims were on their way to pick up their kids from school, then two parents out on a date, a family on an outing and most recently a child walking home from a friend's house." JJ continued.
"He holds his victims for up to three days before he kills them, we think this for them to participate in his fantasy" Hotch said.
"And when that doesn't work or they don't cooperate fully he kills them by slitting their throats" Rossi finished.
"This man is already looking for his next victim. following this evolving pattern he seems to have realized he can get what he wants best by abducting only the child so warn parents and schools and question any adult acting suspicious in areas with unsupervised children" You said.
"This unsub has left his comfort zone, perhaps because of police presence and is devolving. He's holding his victims for shorter periods and it is likely his kills will become more erratic." Reid said.
"It's imperative we catch him now before he has the chance to take another victim" Hotch added finally before dispersing the crowd of officers.
You checked your watch, it's been almost an hour since officer Parker left with Danny.
"Have you seen officer Parker?" You asked one of the officers close to you and he shook his head.
"Is everything alright?" Hotch asked.
"I told officer Parker to take Danny to a library across the street, she was getting too nervous to be of any help and Danny really wanted to go out and do something but they haven't gotten back yet and I haven't heard anything from Parker" You explained.
"She has your personal number?" Hotch asked and you nodded.
"Something's wrong, I told her to call if anything happens" You said.
"Go over there, make sure everything's okay, we'll call if anything's urgent" Hotch said and you nodded a thank you.
"I'll only be few minutes" You said and left, trying to tell yourself everything was fine.
Everything was in fact not okay and when you got to the library you saw a police radio on the ground along with a book.
"No, no, no, no" You muttered to yourself as you dialed Hotch as quick as you could.
"Agent Hotchner—" He said once he answered but you cut him off.
"They're gone" You said, panic in your voice.
"What?" Hotch asked.
"They're gone. There's a police radio and a book matching Danny's reading level on the ground but they're not here and— Hotch they're gone!" You said.
"We're on our way" He said. Within minutes the team as well as multiple officers were at the library. The scene was photographed and morgan and JJ went inside to see what could be seen on the security cameras.
Hotch was speaking with detective Alden since one of his officers had also disappeared and Reid and Rossi were trying to keep you calm and walk you through what you knew.
"Did you give them a time frame for when to come back?" Rossi asked and you shook your head.
"No, but I told them to go get something for him to read, it doesn't take long, it— they should have been back" You said and Reid gave you a cup of water to help you calm down.
"It'll be okay, we know he keeps them for up to three days, we'll find them Y/N" Rossi said, trying to comfort you.
"I thought it would be fine, it was only across the street and we're nowhere near his abduction comfort zone, I— I thought he'd be safe" You tried to say.
"I knew this was a bad idea, I should have stayed back, I could have helped you from Quantico, I—"
"Y/N it's not your fault. We'll find them and they'll be fine. JJ and Morgan are going through the security tapes now. If he took them from the street we'll find him" Reid said, putting a hand on your shoulder, something you knew was hard for him.
"I'm a terrible father" You murmured but Rossi heard you.
"You are not a terrible father. You did what you thought was best and as soon as you realized something was wrong you acted on your instincts. You did everything right" Rossi said but you shook your head.
"I brought my four year old to a city with a devolving sociopath kidnapping and murdering children" You replied.
"He has officer Parker with him, the unsub took both of them probably under the assumption that Parker was his mother" Rossi reminded you.
"Yeah, Danny has her until our unsub realizes she isn't his mom and he kills her because she doesn't fit into his delusion." You reminded him back but you didn't have any more time to argue or spiral into your fears because Morgan and JJ came back out of the library with a photo.
"We found him" Morgan announced and you ran over to him.
"Garcia's running his image through facial recognition but this is him, there was clear footage of him using a knife to Danny to force Parker to put down her radio and follow him." JJ said but she saw this wasn't calming your nerves.
"We'll find them Y/N" She said and you nodded, you had to believe her because the other option wasn't something you could even bring yourself to imagine.
Danny sat, huddled into himself in the corner of a dark room. He wanted to scream when he felt the strange man's hands around him in front of the library but his mouth was covered by the man's hand. Now all he could do was cry, hoping you'd come to save him.
"I want my daddy" He cried when officer Parker—whose name he found out was Jenny— woke up. The strange man had knocked her out with the back of the knife once he had her in the back of the car.
"I know, we'll get out of here and he'll find us. Don't worry Danny" She said and Danny nodded. He didn't have any other choice, his young brain couldn't comprehend the alternative.
Soon the door to the small room they were both locked in opened and a man came in. He was pushing 40, with a receding hairline and a salt and pepper beard.
"Hey there little guy, how are you feeling?" The man asked but Danny just cowered into the corner.
"Don't be scared, look what I brought you" He said, pulling out a teddy bear.
"Isn't it nice what daddy brought you?" He asked, crouching down to Danny's height to give him the toy.
"You're not my daddy" Danny said quietly and that seemed to upset the man.
"You shouldn't say things like that, that's very mean. You should say you're sorry" He said, slowly standing up to tower over the young boy.
"I, I— I want my daddy" Danny cried and the unsub gritted his teeth.
"Don't you dare touch him" Jenny said, pulling together all her courage.
"Oh, is mommy getting protective?" The unsub asked, stalking towards where Jenny was laying, hands tied behind her back.
"I'm not— Just don't touch him. You are in so much more trouble than you know asshole. His dad's an FBI agent and when he finds out you took his son—"
"I'm his dad! I am! And if you're not his mother you're not of any use to me" He said, taking a knife out of his pocket.
The last thing Jenny heard was Danny's screams.
An hour later Jenny's body was discovered at a public parking lot at 63rd avenue. Her throat had been slit.
By then Garcia had found a match for the unsub.
The man who took Danny was one Edward Pugh, a 43 year old now single white man. He worked as a part time security guard and was living out of his late mother's old house on 39th avenue in Wedgewood. It was close enough that he could easily drive between his home (which was most likely the secondary location), the abduction sits and the dumpsites. As soon as you had his address everyone was getting ready to head there. You included. You strapped yourself tightly into your bullet proof vest and made sure your gun was loaded.
"Are you sure you want to be there?" Rossi asked and you resolutely nodded.
"There is no way in hell I'm not the first person my son sees once he's out of this mess" You said.
"But Rossi, I want you to lead the negotiation. Everything about this guy tells us he's not going to just give Danny up so, I want you to be the one who talks him down" You said and Rossi nodded.
"Of course, I'll tell Hotch" He said.
When you arrived outside the house the local PD already had the place surrounded within minutes Morgan was kicking down the door and you were faced with the most horrifying sight you've seen on the job.
Edward Pugh held Danny in his grasp, a knife to his neck as he backed into a corner.
"Don't move!" He yelled.
"Don't move or I'll kill him! I'll do it! Don't make me!" He said and you could see the fear in Danny's eyes.
"Daddy" He called and you could see Edward's hold on him tighten.
"Shut up!" He yelled at the boy.
Rossi came up, his gun lowered even as everyone else kept Edward in shooting range.
"Edward, put the knife down" Rossi said slowly.
"No. No. You're going to take him away" Edward said and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from speaking. He was right, you were going to take your son back.
"You care about him, don't you? You don't wanna hurt him" Rossi continued and Edward nodded.
"He's my son" Edward said. "But I will hurt him if you don't leave us alone"
"Edward, we just want the boy to be safe. Put the knife down and we can talk—" "No!" He yelled and you could see blood start to drip down Danny's throat.
"You're hurting him Edward. Put the knife down." You said, repeating Rossi's words.
"We won't take him. We just don't want anyone to get hurt. Okay, put the knife down, he'll stay with you just, put the knife down Edward" Rossi said and slowly he did so, though he still had his arm wrapped around Danny's shoulders.
You took a big breath of relief, at least there wasn't a knife held to his throat anymore.
"Daddy, please help me" Danny said, his big eyes watering as he looked at you and you smiled at your son.
"It'll be okay sweetheart. Just do what he says, you'll be okay" You told him. Making sure not to acknowledge his words, knowing it would only enrage Edward.
"You're doing this because you wanna prove you're a good father right?" Rossi asked and Edward nodded.
Garcia had told you all that Edward's wife had divorced him a few years back and right before the killings began she got full custody of their son.
"The thing is Edward, you have to prove that with your own kid. You can't prove you're a good father by taking someone else's child. This won't prove to your wife that you can be a father and it definitely won't prove it to the court" Rossi explained.
"Let the child go Edward. Let him go back to his father" Morgan said. carefully lowering his gun as did the rest of you.
"You did good Edward. Cooperate and that just might change your wife's mind" Rossi said and slowly Edward's arms fell from around Danny's shoulders.
You quickly holstered your gun and dropped to your knees, arms wide open allowing Danny to run into your embrace.
"Daddy!" He cried, all the fear and pain coming out in sobs. You heard Morgan cuff Edward and the police take him away but your focus was entirely on your son.
You pet his head and back, kissing his cheeks and whispering comforting words until he slowly calmed down enough for you to take him to the medics.
He refused to let go of you, something you very well expected along with the sudden shyness and anxiety around anyone he didn't know. Surprisingly enough when Reid came to check on you both he ran into his arms and hid his head in the crook of his neck, just like he did with you. It seemed the time they spent together in the precinct firmly situated Reid as someone safe.
Once Danny was cleared by the medics you took him back to the precinct sitting with him, playing with some of the toys you kept in his baby bag.
"Y/N" Hotch said, coming into the room and getting both your and Danny's attention. Danny scooted closer to you but didn't do anything else as you stood up to meet your boss eye to eye.
Hotch tilted his head towards the door, he wanted to talk outside but as you were about to follow him out Danny grabbed your pant leg.
"No! Don't go!" He cried and you had to steel your face so you wouldn't begin to sob all over again.
"Don't worry buddy, I'll be right outside" You tried to explain but he wasn't having it.
"No! No! don't go!" He cried and you sighed taking him into your arms to try to calm him down.
"Is it urgent?" You asked but Hotch, somewhat surprisingly shook his head.
"We'll talk about it on the jet" He said and you smiled thankfully.
He understood. So did the rest of the team when you began taking more days off, sometimes because like before childcare plans fell through and sometimes simply because you needed time with your son. But either way they understood.
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The Curse Transfer
Anne Sallow x reader (platonic!)
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Despite your sore misgivings, you had reluctantly agreed to try and remove Anne’s pain the way you had seen Isadora do with her father. You had found a way to restore Isidora's portrait to get the information the keepers so desperately held on to on how to do it. After speaking with her though, you were even more convinced that your gut feeling was right and that this was a terrible idea.
However, it somehow felt like Sebastian was metaphorically holding his wand to your head, like you had no choice. Part of you wondered if he would do it for real if he realised you wanted to back out. Of course, you wanted to save Anne. Of course, you cared about her.
Perhaps, this was about more than just Anne though. You wanted to save Sebastian from himself, save his relationship with Ominis, save his relationship with you. Perhaps, this was even the cost for wielding this magic. The guilt, the fear that came with casting ancient magic you barely understood. In some ways, you were afraid of yourself.
With a shaky hand, you wrote a letter and sent your owl to Anne, asking her to meet you outside Feldcroft. You begged her not to tell Sebastian. It would be better for the both of you if he wasn’t there, hissing and pressuring you like a serpent in your ear. However, you realised that there was the possibility that something could go wrong. Carrying your broom to prepare to leave for Feldcroft, you noticed Ominis in the courtyard. You could trust him.
“Hello Y/N.” Ominis called out to you, and you were glad he couldn’t see the shock on your face that he knew you were there. “Ominis. I was just about to leave for Feldcroft.” You saw him frown, and you anticipated what he was about to say. “Sebastian doesn’t know.” You stated urgently, glancing around to see if the fellow Slytherin was prowling nearby. “I’m meeting Anne. It’s better for now if he doesn’t know, but…” You trailed off, the feeling that this was a horrible idea bubbling up through you once again.
“But what?” Ominis pressed, reaching out for your arm. “If something goes wrong - if I’m not back by tonight…” Ominis sighed, shaking his head and no doubt worrying what crazy situation you’d gotten yourself into this time. “We’ll come find you, Y/N. I promise.” Hearing the words you needed to hear, you summoned your broom, adjusted your bag containing the goblin silver you needed, and then flew speedily off to Feldcroft.
There had been no shortage of goblin silver in the camps of Ranrok’s loyalists and in the poacher camps you’d cleared out with Poppy, it had been easy to find a suitable container. Yet, as you flew towards the hamlet and looked down into your bag, you worried whether or not it would be enough.
In the distance, you spotted Anne walking towards where you were meeting. You lowered yourself down, dismounting your broom just as she arrived. “Hello Anne, I’m glad you could make it.” You greeted her with a little smile, hoping the look on your face didn’t betray how nervous you felt.
“I’ll admit your letter made me very curious. Now, tell me everything. I want to hear it all, please.” You sighed, nodding in resignation as you held your friend’s gaze. It was only fair you supposed to tell her the whole story. Together the pair of you sat down on the grass, leaning your backs against the stone wall. There, once you were both comfortable, you told Anne everything; from the carriage ride to Hogwarts all the way up to restoring Isidora Morganach’s portrait.
“Thank you.” Anne whispered, gently clasping your hand in hers. “For what?” You asked, your brows furrowing. “Thank you for saving my brother. I trust you.” You squeezed her hand in reply, words failing you in that moment. Her faith was inspiring, but you couldn’t help but feel it was terribly misplaced.
“Are you ready?” Anne nodded. You swallowed, biting your cheeks as you carefully prepared the goblin silver and your wand. You did your best to copy Isidora’s instructions exactly, terrified of faltering for a single moment. The tip of your wand pressed into Anne’s heart, and a moment later you were pulling out a swirling ball of black and red. Anne gasped for breath, seeing her curse take corporeal form in front of her eyes. Staring at the ball of magic in front of you, your hand felt the ground for the goblin silver.
Your fingers just touched the edge when you heard an agressive shout, Solomon had found you. “What are you doing? Get away from her!” He yelled, breaking your concentration. The cursed magic tried to find the nearest vessel to be its new host, which unfortunately happened to be you. You watched helplessly as the magic settled in you, a discomforting and dull throbbing pain spreading throughout your whole body.
Anne turned to her uncle, excitedly explaining what you had done, and it was obvious that she was no longer afflicted by her curse. You took comfort in that, at least. Sebastian would be proud, you hoped. You barely listened to Anne’s explanation, your teeth gritted together as you tried to block out this new pain. How had Anne lived like this? Solomon turned to you and gruffly apologised for shouting at you. Trying your best to hide what had happened, you gave him a forced smile and a slight bow of your head. Thankfully, he quickly turned around and left you two alone.
The pair of you followed his figure as he grew further away, before Anne's eyes snapped back to you as you doubled over in pain, grunting. She reached out to you, glancing down at the goblin silver that was still empty, her eyes widening in realisation. Your cries grew louder as you clawed at your sides, feeling the full brunt of the curse.
"Its alright, its alright… Just try and breathe through it. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth." Anne directed you softly, her hands on your shoulder somehow grounding you. "It'll ease soon, I promise." She murmured, lowering her head so you couldn't see the guilt written all over her face.
The Sallow twin waited patiently your pain to subside, your cries eventually quietening down. She pulled you in a hug, rubbing your back soothingly. "I'm so sorry, Anne." You whispered, wiping away your tears as you fell back against the fall, your breathing still heavy as you recovered.
"What for? I feel like I should be the one apologising to you." Anne removed her shawl, wrapping it around you as she noticed you shaking. "That you had to live with this for so long. How could you stand this every day?" You pulled the shawl tighter around you as a shudder went through your body. She shook her head sadly, choosing not to answer you directly.
"Let's take you back home to rest. The sooner you can recover enough strength to remove the curse and put it in that container, the better." She held out her hand for you to take, as she helped you stand. You found it was too painful to fully stand upright, and Anne wrapped an arm around you to support you as she helped you walk back to the Sallow home.
Solomon was just outside, and piecing together what had happened without Anne having to say anything, he opened the door and pointed over to Sebastian's bed. Both helped you to lie down, pulling the blankets over you. Anne sat by your side, hoping to be a peaceful presence as you drifted off to sleep, too tired by the curse to fight any longer.
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