I would like to apologize for my break, unfortunately I've been dealing with a parent recovering from a heart attack and have been having to go and help more with domestic things after school as well as balancing commissions, other college related things and a relationship.
This blog fell to the back burner, I would like to post again soon but I will have to ease myself into a posting schedule as things are still hectic.
Hello everyone, I know I intended on getting back into posting but things have been difficult between upcoming midterms, health scares, and mine and my partners birthday approaching soon. I don't expect my break to last too much longer but I have had a really difficult time balancing this blog and everyday life.
I will get back to it as soon as I can, thank you for your patience
I plan on getting some requests out soon but in the meantime I've been wanting to do a Q/A, feel free to ask or tell me any headcannons you have for the characters I write for!
I apologize for being inactive for the past few weeks, things came up like they do and I was dealing with car trouble, as well as college, and a few family things.
Fortunately I was finally able to handle everything and I'm in a good place again with some time for this blog.
My main focus will be working on a few requests so you can look forward to those soon!
Thank you again for supporting me, this honestly is one of my favorite hobbies and I always enjoy seeing other people enjoy my work❤️
just finished reading ur newest jason todd fic and it’s amazing as always 🙂↕️🙂↕️ you da platonic fic goat ❤️
also i’m sorry for your loss, i cant fully comprehend pain you might feeling right now, but i know that although it’ll take a long time, it will get better. i’m glad you’re in a better place rn 🫂🫂❤️❤️
take ur time, we’ll always be here to gobble your fics up like starved men ❤️🩹 i’m looking forward to the mini series! :)
Thank you for your kind words, they mean so much to me ❤️
I can't wait to get back into writing since I have a few fun things planned.
I would like to start off the new year with being more proud of my art whether it be writing or art!
So here is the first chapter of my DC oc Frederick from my Fanfiction Happy Accidents! I have so far posted it on ao3 and wattpad trying to post every other Sunday however am currently working on other Fanfiction and original stories!
Art of Frederick:
Chapter 1
Sleeping trouble……yay
Jason had been out on the streets of Gotham all night patrolling and handling organized crime groups. The man was dead tired. So dead he laid on his bed in his gear (covered in you don't wanna know he doesn't even know) and fell asleep.
3 hours after 12am. 3am.
The rain was pouring on the window of his apartment. It was an old rundown place. One bedroom covered in band posters peeling off the walls, a book shelf with books that ran from Jane Austin to The Art Of War the bed was pushed to the left side of the room against the wall next to it an old standard dresser where a Red Hood helmet lay next to a lamp. Straight across from the door was the window that showed the rain pouring down on Gotham and the fire escape. To the right side of the room lay a crib (That Jason needed to call help Dick to help build) with a (hopefully) sleeping infant. The rest of the apartment was simple, one bathroom, and combined kitchen and living room (where there definitely wasn't extra Red Hood gear hidden under the couch cushions). All was perfect until there was a very rude loud bang of thunder.
*cue the unholy sounds of a screaming infant*
Jason shot up immediately going for the knife under his pillow and when he realized it was the baby? He groaned into his pillow then he got up and came into the crib to where the screaming infant was. Jason had no clue what he was doing honestly this was only the first month Ferederick was in his custody and he was so done.
“....Hey buddy” He muttered, picking up the screaming child holding him against his chest and trying to comfort him. The kid screamed and cried clutching at his Red Hood gear. Then it horribly dawned on Jason…he was still in his Red Hood gear…his still Not. Clean. Red Hood gear. That a baby definitely shouldn’t be touching. Jason muttered a curse as he held Frederick at arms length as he still screamed and cried. He placed the boy back in his crib and scrambled to go change out of his gear and into more normal considered clothes which was just sweatpants and some band T-shirt he got from some concert Roy dragged him to probably. He pulled off his gloves that left a grime outline on his hands. He quickly went and washed his hands. He finally picked up the child again as another clap of thunder could be heard.
"...Alright let's try this again huh?” He said looking at the kid gently rocking him like how he read in a Parenting For Dummies book (Tim got it for him). It didn't work. Jason groaned.
"What could possibly be bothering you??? I know you're damn well not hungry. I fed you before I left, same with changing.” He uttered exasperatedly.
More screaming and crying.
"......You're playing a joke on me aren't you?” He deadpanned.
Another clap of thunder and more crying. Louder actually. Nope not a joke. It all suddenly clicked.
"....You don't like the noise….do you?” He asked, looking down at the kid who was crying, looking up at him and holding his shirt in little fist like a life line.
Jason sighed and shifted Frederick onto his hip and closed the blinds to the window and moved back and laid on his bed. He placed the screaming boy on his chest and Jason rested his head back against the pillow tracing patterns on the baby's back. The baby just cried, clutching at Jason's shirt more. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t know how to calm a crying infant, especially a scared one. The only crying infant he was ever around was Damian and Talia would handle that kinda stuff.
"...It's just noise, you know that right? It's not gonna hurt you. But yeah it's loud I get it. I don't like loud either” he muttered looking at the baby. The kid actually looked up at him while still crying.
“I know right? The guy with the loud ass motorcycle and guns doesn't like loud noises” He said to the baby like he could actually understand and comprehend what he was saying.
“But hey, all that noise?” He brought the baby closer to his face. “Just noise. It's not gonna hurt you. I'd never let anything happen to you…which sounds really lame and cliche but…it's true” he said, running a hand over the baby's head feeling the soft short white hair of fuzz he had.
The baby kept crying and Jason just leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He didn;t know what to do. All he knew how to do was to let the baby cry it out. He simply moved his hand from the baby's head running his thumb over the baby's hand why his other hand was still tracing patterns on the infant's back. Some time passed and he just listened to the quiet sound of the rain hitting the window from the closed blinds. Wait. Quiet? Jason opened one eye to see Frederick. Who had finally stopped crying, staring at Jason's hand as he still rubbed his thumb across the baby's hand. Finally, the kid just grabbed Jason's thumb and tried to shake it like it was one of his toys. Jason moved his hand away as Frederick went to grab it again. He repeated the keepaway motion. Frederick laughed.
"....that's all it took? Seriously?” he said in disbelief.
He did the simple keepaway motion again. The little one laughed. Enjoying playing this unofficial game. Finally Jason just gave up and let Frederick have his finger and let him shake it or do whatever babies did when they grabbed stuff. He closed his eyes again. What the actual heck was he doing? Trying to comfort and play with a baby like he was actually a good dad who planned for this and knew what he was doing. When he actually didn't. The baby let out a cooing noise and Jason looked at Frederick again all happy and calmed down looking at him with those green eyes reaching a hand towards him.
"What do you want huh?” He mumbled shifting onto his side to where the boy was between him and the part of the bed that was pressed into the wall (he had a fear of the kid falling off the bed). He placed Frederick on his back. He propped himself up on his elbow. The kid still reached up at him and looked at him all curious with those wide green eyes that he stole from Artemis.
He played that stupid game of keepaway with his hand again with the baby until Jason just let the baby have his fingers and mess with them like they were the best toy in the world.
"Damn you're weird.” He said but the kid didn't care and just laughed up at him.
The baby let out a yawn. Finally, he sighed in relief. Jason got out of bed and gently picked the kid up and went to place him back in his crib but the gremlin let out a whine of protest.
"Oh you gotta be kidding.” He whispered as he picked the kid up out of the crib again. He stopped crying.
“Oh now I know you're playing me,” he noted. The baby gave a laugh looking up at Jason that was interrupted with yawn. Jason went back to his bed laying the baby safety next to him between him and the wall again. Jason watched the baby's eyes float shut eventually. He just watched the kid as he slept. It was a terrifying thought: this kid entirely depended on him and Artemis. He researched and prepared but in truth he had no idea what he was doing. He knew it. Artemis knew it. The other Outlaws knew it. The Batfamily knew it hell even Damian's stupid cow knew it. But he'll be damned if he doesn't try.
It's always nice to see other people write this trope, I love when my favorite characters are parents. I enjoyed the found family plot and amazing character design for the OC.
Definitely encouraging anyone else interested in platonic stories to read. ❤️
Hi I found your Tumblr like a couple months ago. I really enjoy your writing a lot since it's kinda hard to find a platonic reader where the reader is gender neutral/a kid because a lot of the time the reader has a lot of female implied things and if I wanna find a kid fic with a certain character it's always like Femreader x said character with a kid if that makes sense? So I really like your work and it really motivates me to make my own. Anyway I just really like your work and was hoping you could make another Jason Todd fic with the platonic child reader like you've made so far?
❥︎Pairing: !Platonic Dad Jason Todd/Red Hood & Reader
❥︎ ︎Content Warnings: !Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Nightmares / Night Terrors,Kidnapping (Mentioned), Violence (Implied/Referenced), Weapons, Smoking, Parental Guilt / Self-Loathing, Strong Language (Brief use of words like "shit" and "brat.")
❥︎ ︎Summary: Your Dad comforts you after a nightmare caused by a past trauma, he debates if you're better off without him.
❥︎Author notes: Thank you so much for your kind words! I completely understand what you mean, there is not a lot of parent reader fics and even less where the reader is gender neutral. I'm so happy to hear that you like my work and want to write your own, if you decide to I'd love to read it and will be the first to repost it ❤️
I hope you enjoy this work, it has dragged me out of my art block and had inspired me to make a possible minie series showcasing !Uncle Dick Grayson, depending how popular the idea gets.
(See end for more notes)
It was 3:14 AM. The apartment was quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the click of Jason disassembling his gun on the kitchen counter. He wasn't tired. He rarely was these days. His job eased him into being partly nocturnal.
The city outside the window was loud, with sirens and gunshots, but inside, under the harsh kitchen light, Jason felt his shoulders drop. The apartment had reinforced security, and you were asleep in your room–
A sob came from across the apartment. He didn’t think. The slide of the gun clattered onto the counter as he moved, sprinting down the hallway. He called your name twice before he shoved your door open.
His fists rose before he could process what was going on, and he dropped them when he realized you were still asleep. Your eyebrows were furrowed, and you thrashed against the sheets.
Shit, you were having a nightmare.
"Hey. Hey! Wake up," his voice was rough but low. He grabbed both of your shoulders and shook you firmly. You mumbled something he couldn’t make out, you weakly swatted at his chest, he grabbed your wrists, and pulled them down.
Your eyes flew open. They were wide, unseeing for a second, dilated with panic.
"It’s me," Jason said, softening his grip. "It’s Dad. You’re safe. We’re at home."
You gasped, the air hitching in your throat as you gathered your bearings. Then, you stilled. You slumped forward, burying your face into the leather of his jacket. Jason didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand cradling the back of your head, pressing you against him. You could feel the steady beating of his heart.
"I’m here," he murmured into your hair. "I’ve got you."
He could guess what the dream was about. He could tell by the way you were shaking. His biggest failing as a Father was not being able to protect you from everything. A few months ago, you were taken and held up in a warehouse by some people he pissed off. Eventually, he got you home, but not before you’d seen things no kid should ever see. Not before you’d seen him do things no father should let his kid witness.
You sat there for a long time, just breathing, until the tremors stopped.
"You good?" he asked quietly.
You shook your head against his chest. "I don’t wanna go back to sleep."
He pulled back, scanning your face in the dim light. You looked exhausted, sweat matting your hair to your forehead. "Come on. Kitchen."
You followed him out. The kitchen light stung your eyes. Jason nudged you onto a chair and turned to the pantry. He didn't ask what you wanted. He just grabbed the box of cereal and a gallon of milk.
He slid the bowl in front of you. "Here, might make you feel better."
You picked at the cereal, the spoon clicking against the ceramic. Jason leaned against the counter opposite you, crossing his arms. He watched you with that intense, analytical gaze that usually made criminals nervous, but on you, it just felt heavy. He noticed the way your shirt was sticking to your back, the clammy sheen on your skin from the night terror.
“You’re covered in sweat” He stated bluntly. "Eat that, then go take a shower. The hot water will help the adrenaline crash,"
You nodded, knowing he was right.
The shower did help. When you got out you put on some sweats and an old hoodie of his, it didn’t fit him anymore so it was yours now.
It took a minute but eventually you found him on the fire escape.
The window was propped open. He didn't turn around when you climbed out to sit next to him, but he shifted slightly to make room.
For a few minutes, neither of you spoke. Just the sounds of distant sirens and the wind.
"Better?" he asked, taking a drag.
"Yeah. A little."
Jason exhaled a plume of smoke, tapping the ash onto his boot. He didn't look at you. He was staring at the skyline, his jaw tight.
"It was the warehouse again, wasn't it?"
You didn't answer, which was answer enough.
He let out a short, bitter huff of air. "I'm sorry, kid."
"It's not your fault, Dad."
"It is," he cut in, sharp and immediate. He finally turned to look at you, and his eyes were full of guilt.
"I'm okay," you tried to reassure him, leaning your shoulder against his arm.
"You shouldn't have to be 'okay' with this," he muttered, flicking the cigarette butt out into the alley below. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking suddenly very tired.
"Come on. It's freezing out here and you just showered."
Back inside, he didn't send you to bed. Instead, he steered you toward the couch. He grabbed the remote and out on the 2005 Pride and Prejudice.
You curled up on the end of the couch, pulling a throw blanket over your legs. Jason sat in the middle. Within ten minutes, you had migrated, your head resting on his shoulder, your legs drawn up.
“Mr. Darcy is emotionally constipated.” Jason muttered at the screen, this earned a small chuckle from you.
“Takes one to know one,” you mumbled.
Jason scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “Watch the movie, brat”
Eventually, he felt your breathing sync with his. Your hand, which had been gripping his shirt, went slack. You were asleep.
Jason didn't sleep. He watched the movie play out, watching the scenes of a quiet, respectable life that he would never have. He looked down at you, safe for the moment, but for how long?
He thought about the gun on the kitchen counter. He thought about the nightmares you were having. He thought about how he was teaching you to strip a Glock before he taught you how to drive.
He was ruining you.
Jason knew that he should’ve quit the Red Hood the moment he found out about you, or that he should’ve taken Dick up on his offer to take care of you instead of cursing him out and ignoring him for weeks.
You shifted in your sleep, mumbling something and scooted closer to him for warmth, Jason sighed. He rested his chin gently on the top of your head, his eyes staying open, watching the door.
He knew that he was too selfish to ever give you up, even if it was for the best he couldn’t abandon you like that.
Instead he’ll keep doing what he can to protect you, he’ll be sure not to make the same mistakes again.
❥︎Author notes: Thank you for reading. I know it has been a while since I posted and I apologize. Unfortunately I have had a difficult time recently between the loss of a loved one, financial worries, college starting up again, and more medical emergencies. I didn't want to get into everything while it was still very prominent so I decided to wait until I was in a better place to continue posting.
I will try to publish as many requests as I can but I will be more focused on publishing drafts as I try to ease back into a better posting schedule, my requests are still open but I can no longer promise each one will be answered.
The last thing I want to say is that I'm thankful for how kind and supportive everyone is, I'm thankful that I can write creatively without it feeling demanding or owed and that I can genuinely enjoy what I'm doing. Thank you everyone who has supported my blog, it means the world to me. ❤️
hi ml idk if u take requests but i was wondering if u could do a harvey dent x daughter!reader fic but reader is some slightly unhinged meta he pretty much adopts during his crime peak (w/water powers???)
i loveee ur fics 🙏🙏
❥︎Pairing: !Platonic Father Figure Harvey Dent/Two-Face & !Daughter Reader
❥︎Content Warnings: Emotional manipulation (villain protagonist), verbal abuse / yelling, trauma responses (dissociation, panic), crime & gang violence, threats of violence, power imbalance, morally gray / villain POV, mentions of abandonment / foster system, non-romantic physical affection (parental)
❥︎Summary: Desperate to regain his control, Harvey recruits a young meta into his operation, he offers safety, stability, and family in exchange for loyalty. A year later, a failed deal forces him to confront that instead of getting weapon he got a daughter.
❥︎Author notes: I hope you enjoy this one-shot, it's a bit more gritty than what I have written in the past but I wanted to keep him more in character. I finally got a break from college and im planning on getting back into the swing of things. I'm currently working on the requests from last week that I had to postpone. Thank you so much for reading, my requests and asks are open.
It started a little over a year ago. Harvey had felt his influence on the criminal underworld slipping. The Rogues Gallery was getting crowded, the Bat was getting faster, and his territory was slipping.
His men were even defecting to Black Mask or the Joker because they knew a sinking ship when they saw one. He needed an ace up his sleeve. He needed a partner who’d back him when things got hairy. But he had trouble making partners with anyone already established, and eventually he found himself getting desperate.
Rumors started circulating about someone new on the scene, someone who was messy, inexperienced, and a meta. Harvey didn't usually mess with "super-powers", but beggars couldn't be choosers.
When Harvey’s men finally cornered you in a warehouse for a sit-down, he had his coin ready to decide your fate. He walked in not entirely knowing what to expect, but it sure as hell wasn’t someone so young.
You couldn't have been more than fifteen. You were shivering, cornered, looking less like a villian and more like a runaway from the system. You were backed into a corner, water from a leaky pipe hovering defensively around your hands in shaky, jagged spheres.
Harvey stopped. He watched his men raise their guns, and he saw the fear in your eyes. He recognized that look. It was the look of someone who had been kicked by Gotham every single day of their life.
He flipped his coin. Heads.
"Lower the guns," he barked, his voice rough. He stepped forward, ignoring the water trembling in the air.
He quickly changed tactics in his offer. He’d seen kids like you in his time as a lawyer, loyal to a fault even if it's to the wrong side. He knew the best way to get you by his side was to make you feel like you had a place where you could belong.
Harvey told you his gang was like a family, promised you a place in it. He offered you a room with a lock on the door. He offered you a hot meal. He offered you protection. He played on that desperate, hollow ache in your chest that screamed for stability.
"You stick wit' me," he had said, crouching down to your eye level, "and you ain't gotta sleep with one eye open no more. We take care of our own." It worked.
Fast forward twelve months.
Harvey Dent was back on top. The territory was reclaimed, the fear was reinstated, and the coin was landing in his favor.
But Harvey had made a mistake. He had underestimated the difficulty of raising a teenager.
He thought he was getting a weapon. He got a daughter. Between scaring off greaseball boys who looked at you too long, teaching you things your dad would've if he was around, and dealing with your fluctuating hormones that literally caused the plumbing to explode, he was exhausted.
And then there was tonight.
You were sitting in the back of one of Harvy’s nicer cars, the leather seats smelling of expensive polish. Outside, rain battered the windows, almost reflecting your own mood.
Harvey sat across from you. He wasn't flipping his coin. He was just staring at you, his good eye narrowed. The silence was heavy, suffocating, until he finally snapped.
"I give you everything," Harvey shouted, his accent thickening. He slammed his hand against the center console, making you jump. "I take you in off the streets! I clean you up! I treat you like my own flesh and blood, gave you a place in this business when nobody else would look twice at a freak like you!"
You shrank back into the seat, arms crossed over your chest. Your clothes were soaked, not from the rain outside, but because your powers had flared up during the panic.
"And what do you do?" Harvey continued, his voice rising to a shout. "You go and act stupid! You embarrassed me! You embarrassed us!"
"Harvey, I—"
"Shut up! I ain't finished!" He pointed a finger at you. "We were supposed to secure a route through the harbor. Simple! A handshake deal with Cobblepot! Instead, half my men have bullet holes, and the Iceberg Lounge is trashed! Do you have any idea how hard it’s gonna be for me to make that deal now because of your tantrum?"
He leaned back, running a hand through his half-white, half-brown hair, looking at you with pure disgust on the scarred side of his face.
Harvey saw it then. The way your shoulders hiked up to your ears. The way your eyes glazed over, staring at a spot on the upholstery. It was a look he knew. It was the look of a kid who was used to being screamed at, a kid who was checking out to survive the verbal assault.
Harvey stopped. The silence rushed back in.
He sighed, a long, ragged sound, and ran a hand down the unscarred side of his face. The anger was still there, simmering, but he tried to find some patience for you.
"Hey," he said, his voice dropping. "Hey. Look at me."
You blinked, focusing on him warily.
"Talk to me, kid. We had a plan. You go in, you offer the terms, you leave. What went wrong? You don't just flip out for nutthin'. I know you."
“He-he tried to get me to ditch you and work for him instead. He said I wouldn’t need to worry about you no more and that he was gonna... he said he was gonna put you down like a sick dog once we were partners."
You sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve. "I didn't mean to flood the lounge. I just wanted to shut him up."
Harvey froze.
He stared at you. You hadn't blown the deal because you were incompetent. You did it because you were defending him.
The manipulation he had started a year ago had worked too well. You were loyal to your family.
Harvey leaned back, the tension leaving his shoulders. He couldn't help the small, crooked smirk that tugged at the scarred side of his lip.
"Is that right?" he mused. "Old Oswald feelin' brave, huh?"
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
Harvey waved a hand dismissively. "Forget it. forget the apology. You did good, kid. Loyal. I like that. Stupid, but loyal."
He reached into his jacket, pulled out a handkerchief, and tossed it to you. "Dry your face. You're gettin' snot on the leather."
You took it, wiping your eyes.
"I'll handle Cobblepot. He wants a war? We'll give him a war. I ain't afraid of a man who waddles."
He looked at you, his expression softening. The scarred tissue couldn't smile properly, but the good side of his face looked weary and affectionate.
"Next time, though? I'm going with you. You clearly ain't ready for the diplomatic approach without me there to steer the ship."
You nodded, relieved. "Okay."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't think you're off the hook." He narrowed his eyes, pointing at your outfit "Next time, you're also going to wear one of the damn suits I bought you. I swear, kid, I feel like I’m burnin’ money. Do you know how much I spent on that navy blazer, and you haven't touched it."
You groaned, throwing your head back. "No. They're stiff, I can't move right. If I have to bend water, I need range of motion. The shoulders are too tight–"
"It's Italian silk! It breathes!" Harvey argued back, sounding more like an annoyed father than a crime lord. "Next time, you wear the navy pinstripe. I don't wanna hear it. You look professional, people treat you professional. I’m tryin' to give you some class here, kid, work wit' me!"
The car rolled to a stop in front of the safe house. The driver killed the engine.
Harvey opened his door, then paused. He looked back at you. You were still looking a little shaken from his earlier yelling. He knew he had a temper. He knew he was hard on you. But if he was honest with himself, outside of his money and power, you were the only real thing he had.
"Come on," he muttered.
You slid out of the car. Before you could walk up the steps, Harvey stepped in front of you. He reached out, his hand, the unscarred one, cupped the back of your head. He pulled you into a quick, rough hug, pressing a kiss to the crown of your wet hair.
"You did good sticking up for family," he murmured into your hair, his voice low so the driver wouldn't hear. "But don't pull that shit again without running it by me first.”
You sighed into his chest and muttered, “I won’t.”
I hope you're okay! Take all the rest you need! Don't worry about us - we will wait until you're ready and feel better. Wishing you well, and giving you a 🍦 - 🍒
I would just like to say that this means so much to me, thank you for your patience and support. ❤️
❥︎Pairing: !Platonic Mentor Billy Batson/Captain Marvel & Reader
❥︎ ︎Content Warnings: Graphic Medical Situations, Near-Death Experience, Severe Injury/Bleeding, Emotional Distress (Child Character), Hospitalization, Action Violence.
❥︎ ︎Summary: After a mission goes wrong, you are severely injured, forcing your mentor Captain Marvel to drop all protocol to rush you to a hospital, compromising your identity. As you recover, you find comfort not in the League hero, but in the twelve-year-old behind the power, Billy Batson, who is afraid he almost lost his friend.
❥︎Author notes: I would like to apologize for all the late posts, I was thrown off schedule by a medical emergency and I've been having to balance that with finals as well, so It's been a bit stressful. I will try to get the other two one-shots out by either the end of this week or beginning of next. I hope you enjoy this work, also my requests and asks are still open.
You hadn’t known what you were getting yourself into. All you got was a distress signal from the monitors and a rough location. Everyone else had been occupied with either routine patrols or civilian affairs, so you and Miss Martian had decided to go on your own.
The mission was swift, and then it was fire and noise. One moment you were moving through the warehouse, the next, something slammed into your side, and the air left your lungs in a ragged gasp.
You hit the concrete, feeling a wrenching pain as something vital tore.
Now, M’gann was screaming your name, pounding on your chest trying to get you to breathe on your own again. The oxygen felt like sand in your windpipe. The mission had gone violently south, and now she was waiting for backup, fighting to keep you alive.
M’gann hardly registered Captain Marvel landing beside her. She didn't look up until he pulled off his cape and tied it tightly around the deep gash on your side, acting as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.
“What—what happened?” His voice was a strained stutter. He stood up, lifting you into his arms with unnatural care.
M’gann’s face was wet, her control slipping. “It was too much! We underestimated the threat. I tried to pull them out sooner, but they were already hit!” She smoothed your hair back from your pale face. “You need to get them help now. They're hurt badly.”
Your mentor gave a single, sharp nod. The tremor in his hands was the only hint of his fear as he launched himself into the sky, traveling faster than sound toward the nearest emergency room.
Formalities were forgotten. He knew your identity would be revealed if he took you to a public place, but he decided that your life was worth more right now.
It was a strange sight for the doctors to see a member of the Justice League, the always smiling Captain Marvel, standing in their emergency entrance, his body tense, holding his dying sidekick. They rushed to get you on a gurney. As the wheels moved you quickly out of view, Marvel stood rooted in the sterile room. For the first time in ages, he felt the heavy, suffocating weight of being powerless.
When you finally woke up, you were bandaged and in a private hospital room. The bright lights and the insistent beeping of the machines were almost overwhelming. A nurse was beside you, checking your vitals.
“Good morning,” she said gently, writing on a clipboard. “You’ve been asleep for a while. How are you feeling?”
You moved your hand instinctively to your face, stiffening when you realized your mask was gone.
The nurse paused, offering a calm smile. “Don’t worry about that. The Justice League worked something out. Every person who was involved in your treatment, from the ER physician to me, signed an NDA. Your identity is safe.”
You felt your shoulders slump in relief. She explained what had happened, the extent of your injuries, the surgery, and the need for a full week or two of monitoring, but promised you were on track for a complete recovery.
Eventually, you settled in, the nurse departing after giving you a tray of lukewarm hospital food.
As you were sticking a straw into a box of cranberry juice, the door slowly creaked open again. This time, you were met not with Captain Marvel, but with Billy Batson, the good-natured twelve-year-old who clearly snuck in just to make sure his friend was okay.
“Billy?” you asked, a tired but genuine smile touching your lips.
As soon as he heard his name, he bolted. He launched himself toward the bed and into your arms, hugging you as tightly as he could, burying his face into your torso.
“I thought I lost you,” he sobbed, his voice muffled and thick with tears. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get there sooner. I tried, I—”
You pulled him back gently and looked him in his tear-filled eyes. “Hey, buddy, listen to me. I’m okay now. I promise. You did what you could, and you were fast. I’m thankful for that.”
He sniffled, scrubbing at his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.
“I know what might make you feel better,” you offered, grabbing the cup beside your tray. “They gave me an extra Jell-O if you want it?”
He nodded eagerly, taking the wobbly cup. He stayed with you until visiting hours forced him out and made a point to sneak in or visit legitimately every single chance he got.
Eventually, when you were cleared, it took a lot of gentle convincing to let you do missions on your own again. And when he finally did, he’d always check up immediately afterward, just to make sure you were truly okay.
Since my last post I have gotten a increase of requests, I'm planning on fulfilling two of them for certain but they won't be out until the end of the week, thank you everyone who requested I'm working to get them out as soon as I can.
My next three one-shots will be:
!Platonic Billy Batson & Reader (Scheduled for this week)
!Venom Peter Parker/Reader (Request)
!Platonic Victor Creed & Readed & !Platonic Wolverine (Request)
Thank you again! My requests are still open as well as my asks if you would like clarification on my guidelines or hear about headcannons I have.
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
stormborns
yousharknotpass
gracieabrams
vaporwave
jimmyeatworldofficial