You were always the forgotten one. You were the eldest like Neteyam, so your father didn't focus on you, and you weren't the youngest so your mother didn't really focus on you, you had no interest in running a muck, so Lo'ak and Spider didn't hang with you, and you didn't want to be a healer so your grandmother was busy with Kiri.
You were used to being alone. You kinda liked it that way. But that didn't mean you wanted to die alone.
It had been like any other raid. Blowing up trains, taking weapons and valuables from the sky demons, it was normal until it wasn't. You felt it immediately hit your side. It sent you and your ikran down. Nobody noticed in the chaos.
You bit your lip, pulling your hand from your side as your gaze locked onto your red soken hand. "Fuck.. nononono..." you were fifteen, you didn't know how to deal with a bullet wound to the hip.
Biting down hard on a piece of cloth, you used the rest to tie it around your hip. It would make do till you got back to camp.
It was already dark. You didn't even know how long you sat there for. By the time you had arrived, the camp was in rest. Your family probably thought you were out by yourself like always.
You didn't want to be a burden. Grandmother had probably treated hundreds today. Why wake her to treat more?
Blood dripped from your side as you hobbled your way to your family's marui. Everyone was asleep, as expected. You bit your lip to hide your hiss of pain as you're laid down on your sleeping mat. Your vision blurred as you curled onto your side, one hand holding onto your wrapped side as unconsciousness took over.
It wasn't until halfway through the next day that your family noticed something was wrong. Tuk had wanted someone to play with. Not your mother's concern of where you had been, not one of your brothers telling you to come eat, you baby sister had been bored.
You were still curled up, your hand now limp, Tuk ran in, storming over to you. "(Name)! Wanna play... a.. game...huh.. what are you covered in..?" Tuk looked down at her hand that had just touched your side. It was covered in a sticky, red, and brown liquid.
"(Name), wake up!" Tuk shook you again, stopping after a few minutes of no reaction. The seven year old pouted, turning around. "Sa'nok! (Name) is ignoring me! She's pretending to be asleep, and I think she got into your paints"
Tuk whined, holding her blood covered hand out to her mother. Neytiri turned her head toward her youngest, her heart stopping. She snatched Tuk's hand, bringing it to her nose. A metallic smell filled her senses.
Neytiri scrambled up, running over to you. The trembling woman turned you onto your back, letting out a cry when you stayed limp.
"Jake..! Ma'Jake! Help me!" Neytiri cried out, pulling the cloth from around your hip off. The wound immediately started pooling blood. Jake came running. He didn't know what was happening, all that Neytiri was screaming.
Noise faded into the background as Tuk watched her parents scrambled around her older sister. She didn't know it yet, but she was the one to discover her older sisters dead body. You had been dead for hours. You hadn't slipped unconscious when you had gotten home. You had died.
(Name) Sully had died alone, thinking her family didn't love nor care about her.
(A/N): Lea writing two fics in a week? Is the world ending (or is she procrastinating reality bc there is a bar exam happening in the next couple of weeks?)
Summary: (Y/N) in English is an angle with polished words. In German though? She is your fratboy neighbor. How does the F1 world react to her cussing crash out on the radio?
Pairings: All platonic to reader -> Max Verstappen, Nico Rosberg, Nico Hülkenberg
Warnings: Reader has a car shunt because of an unnamed testing rookie, but all good. English translation of German passages happen in italics right after
Wordcount: 2.0k
🏎Masterlist🏎
__________________________
You know, shit happens all the time. Especially in a sport where precision is what brings you to the very top. Although, the FIA would rather have the drivers say "Something unforeseeable happened, but next time we are better prepared. After all, we learned so much thanks to this experience" since they are very keen on keeping this sport as PG friendly as possible.
Keeping her interviews clean and watchable for all age groups has never been a problem for (Y/N). The young woman is so soft spoken, so gentle with her words, every reporter loves her. Thoughtful sentences, fledged out in a way that's easy to follow the technical jargon she slips into. You might call her interviews the wet dream of any person who tries to cleanse motorsports from any swear words altogether.
She just passed the gates to the paddock, readying herself mentally for today's Friday and its practice session, when red bull's own social media team approaches her. "Hi (Y/N), how are we feeling ahead of the weekend? Excited to be back in the car after three weeks off?" The guy holding the phone slows his walking speed, being just a step ahead of her, while filming.
The young driver adjusts the straps to the backpack she's carrying, thinking about her answer. "I can't wait to finally be in the car again. The engineers are working very hard right now to put the new upgrades on. I'm itching to see how the new rear wing works with the downforce of this track. I've seen the simulations and I am always so amazed with everyone back at the factory and their commitment to the project." She smiles at the camera and the social media personnel, shielding her eyes from the sun that just started to beat down. Today will be a sweaty day for sure.
Satisfied with her answer, the filming crew leaves her alone. She resumes her walk to the garage to meet with her engineers to discuss the plans for the practice sessions. On the way, Max joins her strut. "If you continue being this nice, they will never stop asking for your opinions", he informs her. (Y/N) rolls her eyes playfully. "You know that I can't be mean in English."
After entering the garage, he turns into her direction before splitting towards different briefing rooms. "You gotta learn. I don't understand how you can have such a potty mouth in German, but don't curse once in English. It's just a different language, you aren't a new person." Max is technically right, but his younger teammate isn't open to giving him a point. That has to do with the healthy competitive nature they keep between themselves to keep it clean on track.
Some playful teasing feeds towards a non-toxic friendly bond. (Y/N) learned this from her blond, German mentor. The divorced one. Not the farmer.
"It is a different vibe. German is meant to be used to curse. That's the beauty of the language. You can wedge love on Goethe's and Schiller's poetry—who totally had something homosexual going on between them—and then cuss someone and their whole bloodline in the most brutal way out. English is a different vibe. It's posh, cleansed. You know?" To be honest, this have been an ongoing discussion between those two.
Max doesn't understand her aversion to cussing in English, (Y/N) doesn't understand how he can keep his brutally honest personality through all the different languages he can speak. Together, they make up one average speaker.
Soon after, first practice is underway. Today, several non-f1 rookie drivers from lower classes participate in the session, looking forward to collect experiences and points for their super-licenses.
"Okay boss, you want me to come in to do a quali simulation after the long run?" (Y/N) asks her race engineer over the radio. He confirms, "Yes, please. You'll get new shoes." "I hope they have red bottoms." She quips back.
As (Y/N) steers towards the pit entry, one of the rookies in a Mclaren zap past her dangerously close. "Oh, that was not nice", she says on the radio. After closing the channel, she mutters to herself "Junge, was ein Arschloch Move. Also wirklich, wir fahren Formel 1 und nicht Auto Scooter aufm Jahrmarkt in irgendeinem Kack-Dorf am Arsch der Heide." (Man, was an asshole move. Be for real, we are driving in F1 and not bumper cars at a carnival in a small shit village in the middle of ass no where)
Her race engineer confirms that this will be taken to the stewards while her car gets wheeled in to prepare for a qualifying simulation. With new softs, she taxies the car back on track and takes a warm up lap before turning up the speed.
"Check the balance", she tells her engineer, "especially in turn-" Her sentence is cut off as her car gets t-boned into the barrier.
The world is askew for several seconds. It's eerily quiet. (Y/N) shakes her head, trying to find her bravado again.
Suddenly, all the noises come back at once. Like a second slam, she is back in her body, feeling the pains from the impact. (Y/N) lifts her head, spotting the papaya colored car from earlier. "Das ist jetzt nicht sein scheiß Ernst." She growls. "Das kann nicht wahr sein! Zuerst fahren als hätte man den Führerschein auf der Rückseite einer Cornflakes Packung gefunden und dann auch noch andere mit ins verschissene Verderben reißen. Junge, wenn ich den in die ,Finger kriege, dann hoffe ich, dass er eine weitere Unterhose dabei hat, ey. Der wird sich so einscheißen vor Angst, das wird der ganze Paddock riechen. Weiß der Idiot überhaupt, was die Mechaniker heute leisten müssen, nur weil er meint, wie ein Arschloch fahren zu müssen? Kann der froh sein, dass ich nicht auf Mutter gehe!" She punches her steering wheel in frustration.
"Are you okay?" The voice of her race engineer cuts through the brief silence she leaves after her freak out. "Yeah, I'm okay. I am so sorry to the mechanics. Coffee and lunch will be on me." Her voice is quiet, breathy but calm. What (Y/N) didn't know is that she actually never closed her radio channel between the shunt and the check in from her engineer. While two medical cars come by to collect her and the Mclaren rookies as well, Nico Rosberg sits in a very uncomfortable position in the commentary box for Sky Sports England.
His seat itself isn't what makes it so bad. The high prices for subscriptions pay for actually very good desk chairs with amazing lumbar support. What really brings him between a rock and a hard place is Martin Brundle turning towards him, asking for translation of the biggest on radio crashout of the season so far. Since it happened in German, to him it only sounded sharp and angry.
"You know, Martin", he awkwardly adjusts his already perfectly good laying collar. "This, I mean. I can sum it up, it's just the adrenaline speaking really." Nico himself doesn't know if he does it to protect the young woman or himself when he tries to dance around the literal translation. But it seems like there is a consensus on wanting him to retell what (Y/N) said verbatim between the other commentators.
He clears his throat, despite having had no previous problems with it today. "Okay. (Y/N) said something along the lines of, and I am quoting here. Those aren't my actual words, it's all hers. He can't be serious—sprinkled with some curses like shit—At first driving as if you got your drivers license from the back site of a cereal box and then pulling others with you into the shitty ruins. Man, when I see him, I hope he packed extra underwear. He- Do we really need the rest? I think we got the gist- okay okay." The blond lifts his hands up in surrender upon getting glares from his colleagues. "He is going to shit himself so badly out of fear, the whole paddock will be able to smell it. Does the idiot even know what the mechanics need to do now, just because he thinks he needs to drive like an asshole. He should be thankful that I'm not coming for his mom."
There is an awkward silence following Nico's translation. He tries to bring some light to the situation. "I mean, she's not wrong. Both garages, Red Bull and Mclaren, will have their hands full until the second session. I hope the cars are salvageable for the teams."
(Y/N)'s outbursts is making the rounds on social media and the paddock while she's getting checked out in the medical center. It's just a precaution due to the g-forces she sustained during the shunt, but so far she hasn't complained about anything gravely. Except for some stiffness of course.
Meanwhile, Nico Hülkenberg stands in the media pen, weathering the questions of the press. Someone has played him the audio of the radio. His grin widens with every word, looking like a proud dad as he tries to tame his sweaty helmet hair. "Nico, can you give us a comment about what (Y/N) said?" The journalist asks the driver.
"I need to ask her if she kisses her mother with that mouth. But you know, I'm just happy that the rest of the world now finally knows how much of a potty mouth she is." He grins. He has been waiting for everyone else to realize that her good girl persona is not actually as good as the illusion hints at. After all, Nico has been subjected to her true form countless of times. He knows how (Y/N) actually articulates herself.
About exactly that, the same reporter asks the young driver later, after she returns to the paddock with clearance from the doctor that she will be sore, but ready to still drive. As her radio gets played back to her, she gets hot in the face. "I, I must be honest. I'm not able to cuss in English. It feels wrong to me. But, if someone cuts my way on the high way, I call them an SOB. In German. There are studies that saying the actual curse words is giving you actual relief over the watered down version. I promise, I'll continue to keeping my interviews as clean as possible."
(Y/N) scratches her neck. "Though, I will apologize to Britney. I heard that he blushed harder than a teenage girl when Martin pressed him to translate what I said. If this happens again—which I never hope will, because a shunt like this one sucks for everyone—I'll make sure to repeat everything in English right after. To spare him the embarrassment."
Max catches up to her during the interview, asking if she is alright. He knows that the crash wasn't gravely dangerous from the looks of the recordings, but in a sport like this one, you can't never be too sure.
The interviewer also asks for a comment from him. Being able to get an instant reaction from the Dutchman to a topic like this must be the same to a lottery win in the journalism world.
He grins proudly to, similar to Nico earlier. "I just hope that (Y/N) is able to drag that energy into English too. God knows she needs to bring her actual personality into it. Our little fire cracker." He wrestles her into a headlock, using his knuckles to destroy her hairdo. The cameras are still filming.
"Fuck off, Verstappen. Bruder, ich schwöre, ich gebe dir 'nen Roundhouse kick in die Nüsse." She grunts while trying to get out his grip. "Halfway there, kid. Halfway there."
(Brother, I swear, i will give you a roundhouse kick in the nuts)
Silent Comfort - you get your period luckily Jack is there to help - Jack Abbot x reader - 🌷❤️🩹
Fancy Pants Coffee Machine - sometimes it sucks to be born with a reproductive system that hates you once a week every month - Jack Abbot x wife!reader - 🌷🧸
A Place To Call Home - Jack made a promise to his wife he intended to keep - Jack Abbot & teen!reader - 🌼❤️🩹🌟
Stay A Little While Longer - you gotta find somebody to help you dance through the darkness - Jack Abbot x reader - 🌼/🌷❤️🩹🌟
Isn’t That Enough- coming out to Jack, your boyfriend, as asexual - Jack Abbot x asexual!reader 🌷❤️🩹 (coming soon)
I'm Trying, I'm Sorry - Bad days, silent languages and a healing hug - dad!Rabbot & adopted!teen!reader - 🌼❤️🩹
Honey - sweet words, two boyfriends and a ton of love, perfect cure for second degree burns - Rabbot x reader - 🌷❤️🩹
Hidden Pain - just because something isn't visible to the eye doesn't mean it isn't there - dad!Michael "Robby" Robinavitch & Robinavitch!teen!reader, uncle!Jack Abbot & Robinavitch!teen!reader (more Robby than Jack) - 🌼❤️🩹
Dinosaurs and Asthma - Jack's son gets an asthma attack at school - Michael "Robby" Robinavitch & abbot!oc, dad!Jack Abbot & son!oc (platonic rabbot) - 🌼❤️🩹
✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ
A New Home I part two | part three - one of Jack's favourite patients ends up abandoned in the waiting room - Jack Abbot & child/young teen!reader - 🌼❤️🩹 (coming soon)
✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ
The Not So Strict Dad - Jack Abbot as your dad - dad Jack Abbot & his child!reader (no specific age) - 🌼🧸
ANDREW “POPE” CODY
────────────────────────
*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ
Do It For You - Pope sees too much of his sister in you, everyone else sees too much of him in you - uncle!Andrew Cody & Cody!reader - 🌼❤️🩹 (coming soon)
✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ
✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ
BRETT RICHARDS
────────────────────────
*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ
✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ
Something Inbetween | part two - your relationship with your father is nonexistent before he becomes the chief at your work - dad!Brett Richards & firefighter!reader - 🌼❤️🩹 (coming soon)
✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ
CHARLIE REID
────────────────────────
*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ
✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ
Eat You Alive | part two | part three | part four - manipulation at its finest form - father figure!Charlie Reid & intelligence!reader - 🌼❤️🩹 (coming soon)
✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ
TITUS DANFORTH
────────────────────────
*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ
The Assistant - Titus doesn’t do love, that’s why he doesn’t love his assistant, or so he tells himself - Titus Danforth x assistant!reader - 🌷❤️🩹 (coming soon)
Run Little Bunny - Wrong place, wrong time - Titus Danforth & young!adult!reader - 🌼🔥🥀 (coming soon)
Delicate Flower - the story of a flower rotting from its core - Titus Danforth & daughter!reader - 🌼🔥🥀
✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ
✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ
SAMMY BRYANT
────────────────────────
*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ
Cheater 101 - He doesn’t like your partner, too bad you don’t wanna hear what he has to say before the damage is done - Sammy Bryant & rookie!reader - 🌼❤️🩹 (coming soon)
Tie Your Shoes - Sammy Bryant and the troubled teenager he can’t get rid of - Sammy Bryant & teen!reader - 🌼🧸 (coming soon)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: without a major, eye catching skill, you attempt to make up for it by doing everything for everyone all at once--the crew only notices when it all comes crashing down.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: strawhats x sanjissister!reader, minor zoro x reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.6k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: reader is sanji's sister, reader is bad at emotions (same), first fic of college! woo!, injuries, stitches, blood, angst and comfort, requested
𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐀
Being the Strawhat Boatswain was no easy task, but you held it with determination and pride. Even when your crew made the job more than difficult.
You took in a deep breath and let it out slowly; Someone had messed with your inventory.
Again.
You stood in the storage room, wondering who had the gall to come and move things around. The cannonballs were no longer in the crate by the window, but behind many other crates of lantern oil. The box once full of toothbrushes and toothpaste was down to its last bottle when it should still be half full. And to top it all off, the medical supplies shelf was out of order. The bandages were at the bottom and the disinfectant was next to the gauze!
It was enough to make your skin crawl.
Taking another deep breath, you shook out your shoulders, went through five stages of grief, and accepted the mess at hand, swiping a roll of bandages from the shelf and leaving the room to deal with some other day.
Inventory was a job you liked. You took your role seriously, always on top of what was needed or wanted, ensuring it was acquired. Day in and day out you thought of everyone else, desperate to be useful.
You took this responsibility so seriously that your own self-care had gotten lost in the mix of Luffy’s food requests, Nami’s financial ledgers, and the weekly task of inventory. You’d lost sleep and skipped meals in the name of keeping order.
Because if you didn’t, who would?
It didn’t matter anyway. You loved taking care of everyone. It made you feel useful. And as someone not as skilled with a sword or as knowledgeable with maps, that was worth a million hours of (much needed) sleep.
So you yawned and pushed open the door to your and Nami’s shared room, finding her hunched over her makeshift crate desk, squinting through the lamplight. Her forearm was still bleeding, splotches of red seeping through the first bandage.
“I’ll handle this,” you startled her. “You fix that.”
Nami hadn’t seemed to notice the condition of her injury, chuckling dismissively as she worked at redressing the wound. “Thanks. My eyes needed a rest.”
Your own eyes longed to rest as she said it, straining under stress and overwork to finish doing the math of how many pounds of sugar, flour, and grain you’d need for the next stretch at sea. You picked up the sheet and made to your own desk, plopping down.
You underlined the last calculation as Nami tied off her bandage. Leaning back in your chair, you threw down your pencil and rested your eyes, knowing there was more work to be done despite the dark hour. As if on cue, the potter pattering of small hooves led up to your door, followed by a soft knocking. A smile spread on your face instantly. “Come in, Doc.”
The reindeer peeked his antlers and eyes in first, stepping inside when all was clear. “Is it a bad time?”
Nami swiveled to straddle the back of her desk chair. “Never. What’s up?”
His eyes blinked up at you first. “It’s time for your physical. Do you want to do it now?”
Immediate sirens went off in your head. “Physical?”
“We’ve all had one,” Nami piped in. “It’s just to make sure we’re all healthy. Your turn.”
“Good one,” you chuckled dryly. “I don’t do check ups, Doc. Sorry.”
Chopper’s little brows met instantly, his hooves falling to his sides. You shifted around to avoid his narrowed gaze. “Y/N, it’s important. I need to know where your health is so I can plan for the future.”
“My health is perfeclty fine and if anything changes,” you laughed, “I’ll let you know, Chop. I’m fine.”
But Nami wasn’t giving you a grin when you turned to her for support, her lips downturned. “I dunno. If Chopper thinks he should check you out then—”
“I said I’m good,” you snapped more sharply, going on in a concerningly peppy tone, “If I need help, I’ll ask for it.”
The way Chopper defleated nearly had you taking it all back, but you stood your ground, trying to make him feel better with a smile. His ears only drooped further until Nami said, “Can you help me, actually? I need to redo this bandage.”
She raised a brow over Chopper’s shoulder, silently asking a question you didn’t catch, so you grinned and shrugged it off. Standing, you caled over your shoulder, “I’m seeing if anyone needs anything.”
Chopper heaved a sigh as the door shut behind you. Nami pat his head gently, lips pursed. “She’ll warm up to it. Give ‘er time.”
“I know,” Chopper sighed. “I’m just… getting worried, I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
Chopper thought back to the past few months he’d been on the crew. Overall, you didn’t exhibit any alarming behavior. You worked hard and cared deeply, that was all. But… Chopper couldn’t place it, but he wanted to make sure everything was really all right. “It’s nothing.”
Hopefully, you warmed up to check ups quickly, at least for his own sake.
જ ⁀ ➴
You'd been careless—that’s what you blamed it on, at least.
The opposing pirate crew hadn't exactly caught the Straw Hats off guard. Nami was on watch that early morning, and she had a great record of raising the alarm. So when the enemy ship sidled up to the going merry and the dozen or so pirates jumped aboard, most of the crew was ready.
But you hadn't been at your best for days, maybe even weeks if you really admitted it. Sleep was so far away and your hunger was on this odd anxiety–induced strike. You barely felt real anymore, simply wandering through the ship doing various tasks that presented themselves, but never really taking time to breathe.
You weren't entirely surprised when a pirate caught you off guard, coming at you from behind and getting a nick at your side—not a nick, actually. His sword had marked a pretty deep gash at your waist, and even when you thought the flow of bleeding was done, you somehow had more to give.
In the aftermath of the fight, as much as you attempted to brush off the concerns of the others, your heaving breath and greenish complexion were giving away everything. Besides, Sanji had known something was up since the first time you'd told him you "weren't hungry enough for dinner."
So as the sun rose above the horizon and the cleaning of the Merry's deck was completed, there was no escaping your fate. The haze of night no longer concealed your wounds.
Usopp was the first to notice. His gaze caught your stuttering breaths and the very obvious grimace you gave when trying to haul a dead pirate over the railing. He took the weight of the body in seconds, tossing it over.
"You don't look too hot," he observed, to which you scoffed and flicked your hands in nonchalance.
"It's nothing I can't fix." But you hadn't realized just how much blood was soaking in the fabric of your shirt, and one turn of your body displayed the vast crimson to him. Usopp's sharp inhale caught your attention, and with a grunted snarl you griped, "What?"
By now, nami had walked past, her own eyes catching your shirt. You glanced down and cursed at the sight. "I'm fine, okay? It's not that bad—"
But Nami already called out, "Sanji!"
You rolled your eyes, gut bubbling anxiously. "Relax, would you? It's just a scratch. Honestly, we should use supplies for worse wounds—"
The breathy gasp behind you was unmistakably your brother's, and you swiveled to find him staring at your abdomen. "Pip…”
"What?" you snapped, self-conscious as your crossed your arms.
Luffy and Zoro had joined the show as well, causing anxiety to burn a hole in your good sense.
Sanji couldn't move, couldn't say a word. As you fumed up at him, all he saw was his baby sister, her face growing paler by the second, the flutter of your eyes weak, the red staining your clothes growing larger—
And then it hit him: The battle had occurred several hours ago. His eyes snapped to meet yours. "How long have you been bleeding out?"
"Sanji—"
"Stop," he said, and you did, your jaw snapping back up. His eyes skimmed you over with a hundred different thoughts, before he broke the contact and gently approached you. “Let's get this cleaned up, yeah?"
He sounded so soft, so much like how he used to when you were just young enough to still get by not knowing how shit the world was. It made you flinch away from him, not at all fond of the warm feeling of vulnerability welling up inside. "Shove off, Sanji. You're shit at dressing wounds."
"I'll do it then," said Chopper, stepping forward. In the little reindeer’s eyes was far too much concern. It left your skin crawling.
"No." You backed away from them till your back hit the ship's side and tried to ignore how featherlight your head felt. "Don't waste good supplies on me. It's not worth it."
Sanji gaped. "... What?"
You sighed, frustrated, and made to storm back to your cabin to sulk away the pain seeping through your limbs, raising your head to snap at them again.
Immediately, you found Luffy's eyes locked on you, all your words falling flat. He had never been scary—he was Luffy—but right then, well, you were frightened by the look in his eyes; it was something like confusion mulled with frustration.
"Not worth it?" He echoed.
Glancing around for help and finding none, you shrugged.
Luffy blinked, and you felt like apologizing, but he spoke before you could. "It's not waste if it's used on you, Y/N."
"I..."
Sanji sighed like he was suddenly out of breath, catching your eye again. His eyes were shining, and not in the charming way. It was a heartbroken kind of look, and it ate away at your insides. "You didn't tell anyone... because you thought it wasn't worth it?"
"Well," you stammered. "I mean—it's not as bad as it looks."
You felt their stares—how each of them was looking at you with such pity it made you sick—and you cracked, sputtering. "Just back off! It's a little blood and I'll heal. Zoro did!"
The swordsman in question stiffened as you thrust a hand at him, his ever-deathly gaze boring into you. “Yeah, ‘cause I wasn't being a stubborn bitch about it."
You were in the middle of an eye roll when the headache started. Honestly, why did they care? It was you keeping up with their asses half the time. You didn't need the same treatment. You had your own shit handled.
You tried walking away, and you thought you'd had it handled, but then the world started spinning, and your side really did ache, and suddenly you were in sanji's arms as he gritted out your name.
You were tired, very tired, so you blinked up at him, and fell asleep.
As one can assume, the entire crew lost their shit.
જ ⁀ ➴
In the eight hours you were unconscious, nobody sat still. Someone was always pacing, arguing, tapping something—agitation just sat over the whole ship.
Sanji would say those eight hours were the longest hours of his life. He would say it rivaled the eighty-five days on that damn rock. It rivaled everything, because it was you. His sister.
He couldn’t bring himself to debrief all that you’d said and what it meant… but him mind brought him there anyway. Sanji beat himself up over and over. If only he’d noticed something was wrong—he should have noticed… which made him realize he hadn’t a clue what was wrong.
He was in the middle of cooking your favorite meal for when you woke up when the image of you fainting in a graceful arc crossed his mind, and how he’d lunged to catch you. Maybe it was just being in the kitchen, but it somewhat reminded him of when you were kids.
You, so much younger and frailer, were prancing atop the counteertops of the Baratie, playing the part of Red Leg Zeff with your boots covered in marinara. The real Zeff, not so Red Legged, battled you with a wooden spoon as he simultaneously fought of his growing fondness. You tripped over your own slimy boot laces and, ever the dramatic, used the opportunity to swan dive to the floor.
Yet you hadn’t made it to the floor, not even close. Sanji had you safe in his arms the second your foot slipped off the counter. When he scolded you for being reckless, you grinned and chirped, “I knew you’d catch me!”
Sanji had caught you again, but not fast enough this time. Lately, he was never fast enough to keep up with your ever-growing mind. Each day you got quicker on your feet, jumping to accomplish task after task after task—Sanji paused as he prepared the food. When was the last time he saw you take a break?
When you woke up, your head was anywhere but in your body, the sensations of the room around you slowly drifting back to you.
Groggy, you shuffled in the sheets, skin sticky with sweat. Your eyes adjusted to the brightness, fluttering open. You sat up groaning, blinking fully awake, only to pause. Sat on the stool across from your bed was Zoro, solemn as ever. He looked half asleep, but the sound of your rustling startled him awake, eyes lazily widening to take you in.
He made to ask something, but you beat him to it, woozily wondering about the odd tick in his brow. "What's up with your face?"
His brows screwed together, but that look never left his eyes; you couldn't place what it was. "What d’you mean?"
"You look..." Your eyes flickered all over him, and you thought maybe, he looked relieved. "Nothing. Sorry. I feel weird."
“I’ll bet.” He leaned forward to glance you over, and you settled on yes, Zoro was definitely concerned. He'd never looked that way before, and the oddity had you leaning closer subconsciously. Zoro jerked back instantly, blinking quickly. "You feel better, though, right?”
You did a quick check of your body, sensing your limbs and tapping at the bandage covering your abdomen. “I think so.”
Zoro nodded stiffly, eyes flickering all over the floor. “Want me to get Twirly? I mean—Sanji?"
Typically, you weren’t the transparent type, but your head wasn't where it should be, so all your thoughts suddenly came out as words. "Is he mad? He usually gets mad when I get hurt."
Zoro moved to kneel at your bedside when you started to prop yourself up, eyes glued to your lap. He watched you carefully. "I don't think he's mad at you."
"But I got hurt," you exasperated. "I wasn't watching my back and got—got skewered! He hates it when I get... skewered." You rubbed at your temples and let out a weak laugh, brain fog fading. "Am I making sense?"
You raised your gaze to find a hint of amusement on Zoro’s face, his lips tipped upward. "Barely, but I follow."
You felt at your side, wincing at the pricking pain of the wound and the bruise forming around it. Chopper had done a good job with the bandage, though it was about time to change it.
"Hey," he said, dragging your wandering attention back to him.
"Yeah?"
Zoro's face grew cold. "Don't ever pull that shit again. You get hurt, you tell someone. Even if you think it's a waste."
You averted your eyes. "Yeah. Cross my heart and shit."
He wasn't satisfied, but he leaned back and raked a hand through his hair, leaving it alone for now. That was when the door opened, and you felt his presence before you ever turned your face.
"Oh, God," Sanji gasped. He rushed to your side, falling to his knees and setting a hand on your shoulder, just staring at you like you weren't even real. He passed a hand over your hair and sighed like he had the weight of Atlas on him.
"You're okay," he said, not so much a question, more of a reassurance. Neither of you noticed when Zoro slipped out of the room, nor when he knocked into the doorframe as he went.
"I'm okay," you said.
Sanji's hugs had always been lethal, always too tight for comfort but too sweet to turn away—and this was no different. His arms were careful to avoid your side as he pulled you to him, your head finding a nook against his chest as his chin rested on your head, and he squeezed you tightly.
Silently, you let him hold you, remaining still against him. You felt his tears, but never heard them. You felt his grip on you like a brand, that same old discomfort crawling through your gut the longer the intimacy went on. But you withstood it, an odd kind of burn creeping up your throat.
You choked on a cough—no, you weren't coughing. You couldn't fool yourself into believing such a lie, not when your eyes slammed shut and forced streams of tears down your cheeks. Your hands clawed at his sleeves as a warbled cry claws its way from your lips.
"You're worth everything," he whispered into your hair. "Oh, God. I really thought..."
"But I didn't." you calmed your ragged breaths. "I'm fine."
He nearly laughed. "Fine? Pipsqueak, you were out half the day!"
You pulled back with a grin. "Eh. Just a scratch."
Sanji shook his head, smiling, before it fell instantaneously. He held you by your shoulders, shaking you slightly. "Why would you... was it something I did? I would never—"
"No! No, it was nothing you did."
"Then why in hell would you try to walk off a wound that needed sixteen stitches!"
"I don't know!" you looked away. "I just... there was too much to do. Everyone would need things done after a battle like that. I wanted to be, I dunno, ready and able."
Sanji still didn't understand. "What things?"
"You know," you started. "Things." He gave you a look. You sighed. "Like... sometimes Zoro lets me polish his swords, and in exchange he'll clean the little nicks he claims won't give him infections. And I think Luffy's hat needed fixing. Usopp never organizes the canon balls right and it makes me nervous, so I always go back and redo it… And on top of all that someone went through my inventory."
He took you in for a moment, and you felt very, very transparent all of a sudden. "None of that is your responsibility alone."
"Yeah, but, who else is gonna do them? Everyone’s so busy doing their things. I don't have a thing, so I do everything, I guess."
Sanji tilted his head, brows knit. "You do too have a thing."
"I really don't, Sanji. I don't cook or kick people like you. I'm not amazing with swords or a slingshot. I can't navigate for shit or heal wounds... so I help. If I don't, I'm pretty much deadweight." In the following silence, you mumbled something you never thought you’d have the courage to say. “Face it. Luffy only invited me because I’m your sister.”
Perhaps you should go back to the Baratie, as much as the thought sickened you. Zeff would never turn you away, and he’d even be happy to have you back.
“Not true.” You looked up, heart dropping at the sight of luffy in the doorway, the rest of the crew behind him. You shot Zoro an accusatory glare, wiping furiously at your face. Perfect. A waiting audience.
You rasped, “What?”
Luffy moved into the room, face sullen, his hat and curls shadowing his face. “I didn’t invite you because of Sanji.” Luffy ducked down to be eye level with you on the bed. “Honestly, I didn’t know you were related till a few days after you joined.”
“Oh.” Sniffling, you ducked your eyes. “Then why? I… I don’t contribute much of anything, and when I try I wind up passed out for half a day.”
Nami scoffed, “That wasn’t your fault.”
You scoffed right back. “I shouldn’t have left my back unguarded.”
“You shouldn’t have been skipping sleep,” Zoro rebuttled, eyes steely. “And meals.”
Swiping at your cheek again, “Screw you.” You picked at your nails and refused to look up at all costs. It was difficult with Luffy right in your face.
The captain had his brows screwed together. His eyes bore into you till he grew tired of your avoidance and lightly pushed at your shoulder. Your gaze flicked up to meet his, quick to glance at the wall over his shoulder.
“Y/N,” he muttered, “We care about you. And you worried us.”
And just like that, all your work to keep the tears in crumbled; one rebellious tear escaped, leading a dangerous path down to your chin. “Yeah. I know.”
That got a whisper of a smile back on Luffy’s face, and his hand came to plop down on you shoulder. “You’re part of this crew because we need you.”
“For what?” you dared to scoff. Instantly, Luffy’s eyes narrowed further than you thought possible.
He echoed your words back to you like they felt weird on his tongue, and gave no further reply, simply staring right through you. You had already shirvled into yourself by the time Sanji stepped in.
“I can never keep track of how much food we go through,” he said, nudging your shoulder, “but somehow you always know exactly what we need and how much. As a chef, you inventory is vital to me.”
“I’m convinced you’re a mind reader,” Usopp added on. “Still no clue how you knew I wanted marshmallows last week.”
You chuckled dryly, gaze still heavy, obviously hesitant to take them serious. Nami sighed deeply.
“Listen,” she started, moving to kneel in front of you. It was times like this Nami felt much older, when her eyes peered into yours and it felt like home (a home so distant you ached to remember it). “It doesn’t matter what you believe. You contribute so much to this crew, more than you need to most days.”
Chopper bobbed up beside her. “Yeah! You do everything and then you never let me look after you!” It was hard to focus on what he said when he was so cute, but somehow when he narrowed his eyes all angry like, he held your rapt attention. “Let me do my job, so you’re able to do yours!”
“On the topic,” Zoro grunted, “quit overworking yourself. When Usopp fucks up the canonballs let him fix it himself.”
“Hey!”
You barely withheld a smile. “But… there’s still so much I can’t do—”
Zoro rolled his eyes. “You wanna learn how to fight? I’ll teach you. Just—quit being stupid and sleep, dammit.” His cheeks dusted pink and his eyes darted to the wall, unable to catch your tentative expression.
Luffy squeezed your shoulder. “You’re our boatswain. Just like Nami is our navigator and Sanji is our cook. The only one questioning your position is you.”
You sniffled, looking right in his eyes, and something in what he said finally broke through. You couldn’t cook or fight or navigate—but you had a damn good memory, you kept the ship organized, you made sure no one ever wanted for anything. You were the Strawhat Boatswain. Surely that held some weight.
“Okay, yeah, I get it,” you muttered, palms pressing against your cheeks as you cleared your throat. Glancing around at them all, you shoved down the creeping feeling in your chest and grinned cheekily. “But whoever’s been screwing with the storage room better knock it off, or I’ll be up all night fixing their mess.”
Silence enveloped you as everyone glanced around for suspicion, when Chopper burst forth with watery eyes. “I’m sorry! Really sorry! I didn’t realize I messed it up, I—I—”
“Slow down,” you smiled. You caught Chopper’s hooves in your hands and squeezed them tight. “It’s okay. I’m not really upset.”
If it was anyone else, maybe the story would be different, but all you felt was warm affection staring down at Chopper. He nodded swiftly. “I’ll help you fix it! Don’t worry.”
“I’ll help too,” offered Nami, none too subtle as she jabbed her elbow in the crook of Luffy’s side.
“Ow! What—Quit that!” Luffy nursed the sting in his side, brows screwed together. “Me too, I guess…”
“We all will,” Nami declared, eyes scanning the room in search of an objection. She found none, a pleased smile gracing her lips. “See? You don’t even need to ask. We want to help you. Remember that next time you feel like everything is on you.”
“All right,” you conceded warmly. That familiar affection tugged on your heartstrings. You slid your legs off the bed and made to stand when a hand clamped down on your shoulder and nearly knocked you down. “Sanji, let go.”
Your brother’s jaw was set and gaze resolved, scaring the stubbornness right out of you. “You need rest. We can fix the storage room tomorrow, Pipsqueak.”
“But—”
“You’re actively bleeding through your stitches,” he cut you off, grinning when you pouted. “Tomorrow. Your inventory isn’t going anywhere.”
You were left gaping at him, eyes scanning for someone on your side. Nami raised a brow. Zoro’s expression was blank. Usopp avoided your eye. Chopper looked so sure of himself that you didn’t even try. So instead, you puffed out a breath and readjusted yourself on the bed.
“I expect everyone’s attendance tomorrow morning,” you grumbled.
Usopp gawked at you. “Morning?”
One glare was all it took and his jaw snapped back up. Your temples began to throb fiercely, the gradual increase in pressure suddenly erupting into a full ache. The base of your neck was sore too and your lash line weighed down in gentle flutters. Sanji’s hand on your shoulder kept you from floating away into the delirium, your gaze searching as it swept over all your friends.
That tight tendril of awkward affection curled around your heart, as it often did, and it felt as undesirable as always. But no one pressed for any outward expression of it; your friends simply stood in your midst, wearing there hearts on sleeves of various vulnerability, not a hint of expectation anywhere on their faces.
Times like this, you thought maybe you could bare to ditch your fears. Then again, maybe not, but you dismissed the hope fondly.
“All right,” Chopper grunted, cheeks puffed. “Everyone out. She needs lots of rest—starting now!”
You chuckled dryly as the little doctor shooed everyone away. Nami shot you a quick little wave and disapeared into the hall, Sanji squeezed your hand, and Usopp gave a brief thumbs up. Zoro was left holding the door, solemn as ever, and paused int he act of closing the door. He appeared between the door and the frame, not quite in yet not quite out either.
“I was serious,” he said lowly.
You tilted your head. “About overowkring myself?”
“Well, yeah, that,” he stammered. “I mean about learning to fight. I’ll teach you.”
You’re sure your eyes glimmered, heart thrumming unexpectedly. “Really?” He nodded, crossing his arms. “Sanji won’t like it.”
“He doesn’t like a lot of things.”
“Primarily you.”
A scant smirk, one born of mischief and misdeed, crept up his face. “Primarily me, yeah.”
You shook your head and fought back a smile. “I don’t have a sword.”
He paused long enough for you to notice. “I’ve got three.”
“I couldn’t,” you said instantly, jaw falling open. “Those’re important.”
Zoro rolled a shoulder and combed at his hair. “I trust you.”
He was gone before you’d finished gasping, eyes wide as the door swung shut in his wake, and unsure when a sudden heatwave had flooded the room.
Please can I request some headcanons of the Fatui Harbingers x a female reader (adult) who thinks she isn't good enough because she's not as strong as them.
Your Request has been made :>
Im very sorry it took so long! I was doing random side quests-:-[ Im so obsessed with forsaken and date everything :] so im gonna finish every request and then i shall add either forsaken or date everything to my list.!!
• F!Reader has been the personal secretary of the Fatui harbingers, while beeing the one responsible of planning every attack, every tiny move, reader was never a fighter
• Whenever on Missions you felt like a deadweight, not beeing able to help your fellow ,,Teammates" made it even worse for your anxiety
• Just standing there as they all get battlewounds that they could be proud of, and then there's you, just standing at the sideline staring, not able to do anything other than watch
• Being this useless -[Readers own words] made her feel even worse than usually, with the way she thinks of herself of course she would'nt notice the way the Harbingers see her as someone worth protecting
• F!Reader would start to fall into a depressive state with how useless she think's she is, and the Harbingers watch their little sisterfigure slowly become more like a robot
• So they try to bring F!Readers mood up with making her feel usefull and make her seen by others
Scenario: While your Co-workers were fighting with ease and breezing through attacks, dodging them, F!Reader was zoning out, just standing there, looking at them fight, when she got attacked from behind and critically hit. She doesen't remember much but she does remember laying on the snow, sobbing about how she feels useless to the Harbingers as they huddle near her.
Reactions-
Pierro-Dad energy:
• Pierro was the one who caught you in his arms as you fell, and having you say the most dumbest shit that he ever heard made him wanna scream, how could they all fail you? Making you, their beloved secretary, feel like she hasn't been doing anything
• He waited for F!Reader to wake up in the medbay, patiently waiting
When she woke up the conversation went like this;
;; Pierro.. im so sorry, i zoned out and didn't even see that attack coming..;;
:: None of that now. You were helpfull before we even started. You drew our Plans, our maps, and planned every Single move. Without that we would not be cordinated and would just attack aimlesly. ::
• Yes he does one of those akward sidehugs trying to show her that she's worth being the secretary-
Dottore-worried Big bro;
•He was the one who immediatly realized how critical F!Readers injurys actually were and immediatly rushed her to medbay, emotions be damned, first he has to treat those injurys
• He would've been the first reader wouldve saw when she woke up, but he was busy working with Sandrone on making some type of calming draught that keeps you calm when you have panic attacks
When he heard you were awake he let Pierro begrudginly first, but after his visit he immediatly rushed in like a distressed brother;
;; JEEZ WHY RU CHECKING MY VITALS SO FRANTICALLY ;;
;; F!Reader, sis, sweetie, you almost died. I will not let you die okay? You're alive and healthy and im definetly not panicking. You know what? Turn over im gonna check that wound again. ;;
• He worries over you every second of the day from now on, scared to see your face ever like that again, tears running down your cheeks and sobbing so loud from not only the pain but also the pain on feeling so useless, he will from now on be there so that F!Reader understands that she has a big brother by her side
Columbina-Big sister
• She wasn't there on the Mission and was staying at the palace waiting for their return. What columbina didn't expect was for her fellow harbingers to come rushing into the palace straight to medbay, fear coursed through her when she was F!Reader laying down, breathing rapitly, trying to get air into their decompressed lungs
She didn't come visit you until you were recovered. But she did come at night to sing your nightmares away and to tuck you in
;; You weren't awake to see Columbina, thinking she didn't want to see someone so weak, but the truth was that every night when you're asleep, you faintly hear humming in your dream that soothes you ;;
;; Columbina usually sat silently there, waiting for you to wake up. After the other Harbingers told her how her little cutie didn't see herself worthy she didn't know how to react. Seeing you so... drained because of not beeing good enough takes a toll on her own health, constantly trying to help you with your nightmares and always tucking you in;;
• How could you ever think you weren't worthy enough of beeing their secretary? You're the Song before the melody, the strike? Without your help there would be no Plans, they wouldn't be able to do shit? She loves you so much, how dare you even think like that
Capitano-Fretting big brother
•While you got hurt, Capitano couldn't bear to look at you, seeing all those injuries made him angry. So while they all ran to medbay, he stayed behind to let out his Frustration on the people who hurt you
He tried to visit you but he never got the Courage to do that. So when F!Reader gets better and makes a recovery he will try to find you outside of medbay and just silently stand beside you until he finds that you're okay and not actively dying
;; Capitano? Why ru following me around? Is something wrong?;;
;; ...no ;;
• He wasn't the best at expressing himself, so his way of showing you is bascially protecting you and standing beside you silently, a secretary having another secretary.
• How could you dislike yourself and hate yourself when you were bascially the Mastermind of every plan? He loves his little sister and would protect you at any cost. He trusts you so much, that he even would Show you his face and let you hug him
Arlecchino-Parentalfigure;
• She wasn't there at the Mission having to take care of the Orphanage, when she got the message that F!Reader was in the Medbay, she couldn't just abandon her kids right away, and had to pretend to be fine, and like their other child isnt in the Medbay activly getting surgery
When you go play with the kids again arlecchino is waiting for you with a bag of goodies -[ snacks and candy ] she practically shoves it into your hands and lets play with the kids, the whole day you're with the kids she's gonna be hovering and shoving stuff at you
;; OH? You like that weighted blanket i got one of the children? Why don't u take it, its okay don't worry i can always buy more! ;;
• She doesen't understand how THEIR secretary could even thing bad about themselves, when she's the one holding them all from falling apart. You're like a sister- no more like her own kid, and she can't see F!Reader falling apart like that
• arlecchino hovers over her constanly when she visits trying to make sure she's comfy and happy in the Orphanage, she might aswell make you stay longer to eat Dinner with them
Pulcinella-Fretting Grandfather
• While F!Reader was in the Medbay, Pulcinella was in another country trying to finish Business fast to see his granddaughter, the moment he found out that you, his precious granddaughter, got hurt, he immediatly had to book a boat back
When he's back, he doesen't immediatly go to the Tsaritsa to report about the Business, he goes straight to you, hoping that his granddaughter is okay and doing well
• he randomly comes into the medbay to see if the Reader is okay but usually she's asleep so he sits quietly next to them and prepares tiny Gifts.
Example; Your Favorite chocolates filled with strawberry jam.
Whenever you wake up, you get suprised with how much food there is for you
• Since he sees you as his granddaughter, he has to act his part, cue lots of grandfatherly stuff from him. Even though hes a Fatui harbinger, one of Tsaritsas helpers, he cannot for the life of him be mean or generally not doting to the Reader
Scaramouche- Annoying big bro
• Scaramouche was there when they all started attacking but he was the last one to find out that F!Reader was hurt, he was too focused on attacking for the Mission and after that everyone was gone and he had to do it all alone. When he came back, he had to first go meet the Doctor [read;Dottore] who seemed lowkey stressed out, not knowing what's wrong he just quietly slipped away
He meets you, when you were taking a walk [ with crutches ]. Since he was you from the back he just wanted to annoy you again, like old times. So he zapped you with a bit of electro. That didn't work out well and you kinda passed out
• He feels like one of the worst brothers after realizing that you were the one hurt on the Mission, he immediatly carries you to the medbay again where dottore fusses over Reader again while he watches quietly
• He's ashamed of himself, he was supposed to be your annoying brother who thought annoying, still protects you. But he hurt you even worse and now you're in the medbay AGAIN
• Scaramouche gets Information from the other Harbingers and now he's on the Mission to make sure Reader knows that she's cared for and important
• After he sees how down you're feeling, you can see him either silently hiding in the room trying to watch you, or just straight up dumping his workpapers onto you---[After you're recovered, he's not trying to be an ass, he doesen't understand emotions and with this he's trying to tell you that he needs help since you're the secretary and you're needed for more stuff
Signora-Big sister
• When you got hurt, she was in mondstadt retrieving the Anemo-Gnosis, so she also was unaware of you being hurt. While in Mondstadt she also got reader new Notebooks and different kinds of clothes, since you're the secretary you dont always go out of the homeland
She went to the Medbay to get some of her Injurys checked when she was F!Reader, sitting on one of the beds, quietly reading a book
• She shoves every gift she got you into your arms and explains in Detail every gift and why she got it for you until you realize why you're actually so important
;; why did you...? ;;
;; You're staring at it like it bites. You're always writing in that shady book that's gonna fall apart if a breeze Hits it. Your thoughts deserve more than just.... this thing. I wanna say you dont need a weapon or feel useless just because you can't fight. You write, you plan. That's your weapon, and not ours. That Notebook is your weapon and not our weapon. ;;
Cue dramatic music
• She loves to sit next to you as you plan, and sometimes uses her butterflys to make you laugh, and she tries to be interested in your work. She wants to make sure, as your big sister, that you're happy being the secretary and she tries to depend on you, so that you feel better and that you feel usefull
Pantalone-Rich ahh big bro
• Pantalone was actually in the medbay because he was overworking himself, since he takes care of all the fiances from the Harbingers. It's a lot of work and that's why he couldn't go on the Mission. He wanted to of course, sibling bonding time with you but work called.
When he was asleep he got startled awake because of people [read;his fellow harbingers] running inside into the medbay and making a fuss, he was just about to yell at them for disrupting his quiet time, until well he saw the expensive Armband he got you, then he went quiet and started shaking [ mind you he was in the medbay while Reader got operated on ]
• After what he saw he is attached to you, he's with you when you're awake and is like a worried big brother. Making sure the pillows are fluffed up and that the Blankets are cozy, he forgot his own reason as to why he's even in the medbay too
• Buys you one of these fancy sushiboards when you're recovering, and while Reader eats it, he's just smilling happily with his eyes closed, happy that you're happy
• When people told him what F!Reader thinks about herself, he kinda sees you in himself, he manages all the money for the Plans and without both of yall nothing would work. And it's a heavy burden beeing the one to manage stuff in the background and not getting recognision.
• He tries to show you how important it actually is to be a secretary, and when you finally understand that, he's gonna spoil the loving shit out of you
Sandrone- Big sister
• She was tinkering with some new Designs for her creations when she saw on one of her Monitors what happened [ imagine like some Kind of drone always there on missions ] she saw bascially the way F!Reader sobbed because she wasn't as important as them, and it broke her metallic heart
She doesen't wanna see you, since she thinks it's her own fault that she wasn't on the Mission, so she bascially is in her own room, tinkering with projects, trying to distract herself from running to you and breaking down the door in worry
• She won't visit, not until you've recovered and are fit to walk again. But in the corner of your eye you can maybe find a tiny spider-robot sitting around and entertaining you when you're bored
•Sandrone never would've thought that their adored Secretary thought so bad about themselves, she doesen't wanna face you, after learning about your thoughts, how could she? She's one of the most observant ones and she couldn't even observe how you actually felt like
• Won't face you till you're recovered but she works herself of on making funny robots for you. Whenever you want something you can just count on your big sister to entertain you. She also sends robots with tiny messages
Example; [Tiny lizard Roboter] with a handwritten note •I'm sorry:( Have this lizard•
• After your recovery she won't stop with those tiny robots until you're fully healed and then she will face you again, while facing you again she might let you ride her big scary Roboter
Childe- Protective Big brother
•While all this was happening, Childe was visiting his family, so he didn't hear anything from his co-workers. He was having fun with his family and was on holiday, so why did it kinda feel like something was wrong and missing...?
• Got a message sent to him from one of his Co-workers telling him that something happened and that he immediatly should go back to the Tsaritsa, of course he didn't listen and continued spending time with his family
When he came back from spending time with his family, he wondered why the other Harbingers looked at him as if he wasn't a Harbinger anymore, when he got told what happened he's mortified, because he disobeyed Orders, and the most because while he was having the time of his life, his lil baby sister, was in the medbay, probably sobbing and hurt.
• He starts panicking and whike trying to rush into Medbay he gets stopped by some guards. Since he isn't in the right mind, he had to take his Frustration out while Training
• He's banned from seeing F!Reader until she herself, says yes to him coming inside or when he starts behaving like a mature person
• When he does get to go inside he's apologizing repeatitly until his voice is sore, he also brought Gifts and lots of sweets for you so you don't ever feel like that again
• He will not stop pestering you with visiting his family after your recovery. They have to meet his little baby sister!!! He also won't stand for how Reader thinks of herself. Usually making tiny remarks on how your the best after helping him, he's bascially trying to encourage you
Tsaritsa- mother
• As the Tsaritsa, Information comes as fast as it can first to her, and then to the others, so when she did get the info that F!Reader, one of her beloved children, was in the medbay, she was first of, very shocked and also very furious as to why she didn't get the Information sooner
Having so many duties, she couldn't come see you even when you were out of medbay. But she tries to fit you into her tight schedule
• Even if she can't see you a lot she tries to make it up by sending a shit Ton of gifts and trying to catch you in the hallways while she's going to different meetings
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
HIHI I DO NOT KNOW HOW THIS TURNED SO DETAILED!??! HOW DID MY WRITING CHANGE SO MUCH IN A YEAR WHATTTT
a/n: I'm genuinenly happy how well this is going so far, I'm going to update the parts a bit more slowly for now, but I'm pretty sure I won't take too long on this. Probably. Enjoy!
This time, Ghost is leading the training for today. That just means they're no fun games like last time with Price, not that you were looking forward to it. Starting at the shooting range is like a warm-up for you, landing all shots while doing everything casually. Your reload is fast and precise, your aim is almost always perfect, and your technique couldn't be more clean.
Sparring was similar to the last time, but now you're paired up with Soap. You're both getting in your stance, knees slightly bent, one leg forward, and abdominal muscles tense. Both ready to fight, but this time without any weapons. Ghost specifically told him to strike first, wanting to see how long you can last or even win against Soap. It shouldn't be a big deal for you, even though he is quite a big guy, full of muscle, and slightly taller than you. You've mostly had opponents your size or bigger in field, and you never really had a problem winning or lasting long. Well, besides one person back in camp.
Soap strikes you first with a sharp jab to your side, but you dodge it quickly, hitting him back. You focus on your technique instead of winning, wanting to be strong against him. He seems to be focussing more on his technique as well, noticing how fast he works and his reflexes are. Your fighting styles are similar; the only difference is how you two use it in practice. While he's using more strength and power, you're trying to be quicker than your opponent and trick them.
You kick against his knee, and land some hits against his weak points, it's hard for him to stay balanced or focused. He huffs and stumbles back, only to rush to you quickly and try to tackle you down. With his amount of strength, it's difficult to actually stop him or dodge, having to think quickly. With a small grunt, however, you're down, with him trying to keep you like that. Your heartbeat speeds up and your eyes widen, your breath hitching in your throat. The position you're in is too familiar; trying to get out of it as quickly as you can. Soap is oblivious, just training with you and having tackled you down, keeping you pinned on the mat. Your brain is quick to handle, pulling out the same moves you did in camp. Soap doesn't even realise he's getting into a headlock by you at first. His back on the mat with your arm holding him tight around his neck, feeling how you're only squeezing him more and more with your bicep. He grips your arm and tries to relax, not wanting to get hurt. Luckily, that's all it takes for you to snap back to reality and let go. You sigh out heavily and stand back up, calming down.
»Ye alright?« He asks you even though he should be the one getting checked up on. You give him a weary nod, clearing your throat.
»Yeah, sorry about that.«
You mumble back and focus on not thinking back to the time in camp. It's almost confusing you now, how similar and suffocating it felt. But you know better than to think back to a time like that and distract yourself in training. Soap tilts his head with a confused gaze.
»What do ye mean? The headlock? Nah, that was sick.«
He encourages you with a thumbs up. You nod, unsure of what to say back. The training continues with trembling hands and more focussing on your breathing than technique, feeling on edge the entire time, thanks to the small trigger. Of course, no one has noticed these signs from you, or at least no one has said anything about it. On the other hand, you're glad no one has noticed your trembling hands and more or less distracted mind during the time.
Once it's over, you're headed to the showers and straight back to your bunk. That was more off-putting now that you're alone in your small room, thinking quietly to yourself about what had happened. You shouldn't feel this way, having thought you were over it a long time ago. Maybe it was something else that triggered you, or maybe you really aren't over it yet. Getting in a pin on the ground was one thing your past rival used on you as much as he could. You don't know the real reason behind his technique, but all you do know is how weird and creepy it felt like.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips once more, slumping down on your bed with no energy. Today's training was longer but not as exhausting as the one at camp. But you still feel very tired for no reason. You close your eyes and try to shut your brain off; instead, a lot of thoughts appear about your rival and that god awful training. You don't know why he's all of a sudden back in your mind. You don't know why you're thinking so much about it, and you don't know why you can't stop thinking about him. He was such an annoying and unpleasant person that you tried so hard to forget about, yet he can't seem to give you peace. Even when you're finally away from him.
After spending most of your day inside your bunk, trying to get your mind off old memories, it's time to actually try and do something about it. With slow steps, you make your way back to the training hall. It's dark out already, forcing you to walk cautiously around and not wake anyone. Eventually, you made it in and looked around for a punching bag… and something to wrap your knuckles with. You don't want to injure yourself after all.
It's dimly lit in the training hall, making it seem more cosy and relaxing. Especially with no one inside beside you. There are five punching bags to use in a row, but unfortunately no bandages or gloves for your hands. It is what it is, and you walk up to one of these punching bags to release some tension and stress. After getting into the stance, you land a few softer punches to get used to the feeling again. Maybe it's because you're alone in here, but it already seems too loud for you. Checking behind you, the double door is closed, so there's no way someone could hear you from their bunk.
You start again, using proper technique, and gradually become faster and put more strength into your punches. The punching bag suffers through your hard punches, taking it like a champ, all the while your mind zones out. Zoned out, all you can think about is your past rival back at camp. You don't remember his name; didn't even bother asking for it back then. But you do remember how creepy and annoying he used to be to you, for no reason. And that's enough for your punches to grow heavier and even quicker, the punching sounds are growing louder through the hall. Maybe your knuckles are hurting at this point, but you don't care. That bastard had no reason to treat you like that, leaving you confused, hurt, and probably traumatized.
It's only then when a gruff voice calls out through the hall, speaking to no one other than you.
»Didn't you have enough training for today?«
You stop in your tracks and turn around, seeing that familiar shadow again. Ghost.
Glancing down at your knuckles, you notice how red they look just from how hard you've been punching that bag for… how long already? You didn't keep track, but it seems like more than ten minutes, judging from your aching knuckles. Ghost has crossed his arms, glaring at you with tired eyes.
»Go back to bed, 's way too late for this.« He adds with a more weary tone and leaves no room for arguments, cocking his head slightly to the side. You sigh out rather disappointed, knowing you shouldn't talk back, but you also can't stop just now.
»But I just started...«
You mumble and trail off at the end, already smelling how annoyed he is with you. He shakes his head, being as serious as before.
»I won't tell you again. Don't overwork yourself and go to sleep. Let your body rest. We've got trainin' tomorrow, too.«
Ghost is not joking with you, probably being more stern than he needs to be. But he knows better than to let you work too much or stress over something for no reason. In his eyes, you're just a poor child who happens to have this fate and is forced to get along with it on your own. Too much alike himself. Eventually, your shoulders drop in defeat, and you nod in understanding.
»Fine. Sorry about that.«
He doesn't respond back and just leaves, most likely going back to sleep, too. After considering his words and contemplating if you should just stay longer in here, you walk back to your own bunk like promised and fall against your bed. It's comfortable and quiet, dark as well.
But you notice a small med kit on your night stand, bandages and a cream for sore muscles beside it. You blink, thinking it's just your sleep catching up on you, but there is indeed stuff for you on that small table. Eventually, you apply the cream on your red knuckles and wrap them up, laying back on your bed.
Maybe it really is just a normal base and rather peaceful. Maybe you could get used to this some time.
Having no energy to think any more about that, you fall asleep quite quickly this time. Even if you fell asleep quickly, it wasn’t a good sleep. A nightmare plagued you, most likely because of the trigger from earlier. A grey room with no windows, similar to your old training room in camp, several people around you, and loud noises everywhere. It’s incoherent nonsense, but you still understand everything clearly. The room is cold and rather dark for some reason; it all seems too much, but there’s nothing at the same time. Your body feels numb, and you’re wearing your bandages around your knuckles, some dried blood decorating the usual whiteness of the material. You notice it too late, but Mike has you on the ground already. The ground is even colder against your back, and you can’t do anything but lay and watch. He’s on top, which he often tried to do on you, and has your wrists and legs pinned tightly beside you.
Everything is so loud but also so quiet, it makes your ears ring. There’s a horrible stench of blood and sweat around the air, which makes it hard to stay still and fight back. Your moves are too slow, having no other choice but to stay like this. Your rival, Mike, slashes quickly through your throat, staying on top in a mocking way. It’s hard to breathe, you’re chocking on your own blood and squirming under him helplessly. The whole dream feels like a flashback, but worse. Too quick, too real.
You don’t remember much of what happened next, because the next thing you know is how you’re trying to control your breath and get rid of the sickening feeling from the nightmare. It’s not unusual you get dreams like this, but never to such an extent of being unable to breathe normally.
The digital clock on your nightstand tells you it’s time to get ready for the day. You couldn’t be more thankful for Ghost to lay the training into early afternoon instead of early morning. Because you know they’d notice if you showed up like this to the hall. Still on edge and tired, feeling as bad as you look right now. You keep trying to tell yourself that it’s normal to feel like this, hoping it’ll pass soon. Deciding to distract your mind, you go out to the park with your small sketchbook in hand. Maybe you will feel better in the fresh air while sketching something down that comes to mind.
But, of course, you never have a few minutes to yourself as a familiar figure comes by and stops in front of you.
»Drawing?« Gaz seems curious and tries to secretly subtly into your sketchbook.
»Sketching.«
»Ah. What exactly?« He carefully asks, knowing not to disturb a teenage girl when they seem peaceful at the moment. Gaz has past experience from his own family and friends, knowing how moody some are.
You hesitate to show him what exactly you’re drawing, and you just shrug in response.
»Just… anything.« That was a boring response to anyone, and he still wasn’t done disturbing your peace. He politely asks if he can sit by you for a while, sitting down on the same bench after you accept his kind offer. Gaz isn’t one to pry or mind someone else’s business, but today he’s really curious. Probably, because it’s been three days since you’ve been here and no one got to know you properly. Maybe they should work on their social skills instead.
»You sketch often?« Finally, he’s asking you about your hobbies. And finally, a normal question after years.
»From time to time.« That’s not true, you’ve been drawing since you remember and ever since. Drawing to kill time? Three pages full with doodles. Sketching something pretty? Two pages full with only that beautiful thing you saw earlier. Filling some pages to get rid of the anxiety? Done.
Gaz doesn’t quite believe your answer as well, noticing there’s only three pages left in there. Instead of prying more into it, he changes the topic slightly.
»So, what’re you drawing then? People?«
Without another word, you hand him your sketchbook, deciding it’s easier and probably faster this way. He takes it wordlessly and flips through the pages carefully. His eyes study the way you drew random people and objects, not having expected how good you’re at this. He glances at you before flipping another page, recognising the person almost immediately.
»Soap? You drew Soap?« You look down to his hands as he’s still holding it, seeing he found the first sketch of his teammate.
»I guess,« There’s no way out of this now, seeing he’s actually quite amused about it, »There’s more, actually.«
His smile widens, not having expected to see realistic drawings of his teammate. And there’s more? Today couldn’t get any better.
»More? You like drawing him or somethin’?« Gaz stops talking once he goes some pages forward, seeing some doodles of himself and Price. Even if it’s just some sketches or doodles, they look surprisingly well-made and semi-realistic. He looks towards you again, holding up that book of yours slightly.
»Can you draw Soap with a moustache?« Out of all questions he could’ve asked, he chose this one. Always picking the important ones. You need a full second to process what he’s asking before you find yourself speechless.
»What do I get for it in return?« Now, he’s the one without words. He considers for a moment as he tilts his head to the side.
»Depends on how well you draw.«
It’s then, when he can’t take himself seriously and chuckles.
»All jokes, I’ll get you a new sketchbook. Seems like this won’t do in a while.«
That’s a deal well struck with him. You can’t deny such an offer and start scribbling down a rough sketch of Soap, added with a moustache. Gaz watches the lines on the blank paper slowly resemble his teammate, grinning at the extra facial hair above his lip. It’s a sight to behold, being glad he could make someone draw a silly pic of this even more goofier SAS soldier.
Once you’re done, you show the page fully to him, and he can’t help but laugh at the drawing. Not because it’s ugly, but because it looks so much like him, and a moustache looks rather silly on his face.
»We gotta show it to him later.« You don’t see why not and nod, already seeing how absurd the situation will be later on.
After the more eventful interaction, it’s time for the usual training. This time, there wasn’t any difference in sparring, only feeling more tired than usual because of the nightmare last night. All you four did, was practice in the shooting range and go about sparring with Soap, leading with him improving your technique and showing some tricks. Of course, like no other time, you all went to the mess hall to eat dinner. You would have forgotten about the silly sketch of Soap if Gaz hadn’t reminded you beforehand to bring it over for dinner.
Sitting in front of the two teammates, Soap is laughing so hard that he’s clutching to his stomach. The drawing was really worth it, being amused at the sight in front of you. At least now, you could eat in peace without one particular person trying to get to know you better.
A familiar shadow appears in the corner of your eye, and you instinctively glance over. Ghost is approaching the table… with a Capri Sun? You look over once again, needing to take a double take to reassure yourself of what you’re seeing. And right, there he was, the scary-looking goth with a Capri Sun in hand.
It’s then that Soap also notices Ghost. Eventually, he stays standing next to the table and places the smaller but sweet drink on the table.
»Oi, what’s that?« The still amused scot questions him, as confused as you and Gaz. Ghost clarifies, finally not being an intimidating tree.
»Shitbox got me this instead of wa’er. Some of you can have it.«
Oh, so he can’t deal with a vending machine. If he weren’t your lieutenant, you would have made fun of him. Gaz nods and looks over to you after noticing you shift in your seat slightly. To him, it’s clear who wants it most. He wasn’t the only one noticing it, and Ghost shifts the drink towards you, mentioning it to you. Or maybe he just doesn’t think the two blokes deserve such a sweet drink and let’s you have it instead.
»You can have it.«
He grumbles before leaving for wherever he needs to go. It’s a bit weird to just receive something like this for no reason, especially from someone like Ghost. Glancing around, the two others seem normal about it, or they’re just good at hiding their real surprise. Eventually, you take the Capri Sun and draw in the orange straw into the packet. Oh, it’s cherry-flavoured. Your favourite.
Even when you thought your small happiness wasn’t so obvious, it turns wrong once Gaz speaks up.
»Taste good?«
You nod back in response and relax your expression as well as you can, not wanting to come off as too giddy for a sweet drink as such. They both grin quietly and continue eating with Price joining in after some time to eat beside you three.
----
It’s been a week there, and it feels less awkward now. You train and practice every day, sometimes sneaking in late at night to punch some bags. Capri Sun is something you get more regularly at lunch because Ghost can’t seem to figure out how to use the vending machine. In reality, he just likes to give you a small treat and see your eyes light up for a split second. It’s his small way to befriend you; it doesn’t matter if it seems silly or stupid, you appreciate it, and there’s no harm to it. You could compare it with an attempt to befriend a cat with treats, and it works well. Consider Ghost as a harmless guy who gives you your favourite drink- just because.
Gaz talks to you the most from the others, occasionally checking up on your new drawings and sketches, promising to get you a new one as soon as he can. He likes your drawings after all. He’s easy to talk to as well, having light conversations with you and a few jokes. Gaz is the most friendly and easygoing of them all for one. At least that’s how he is with you, but you’re sure he can be different too. Soap is as friendly as him, but for some reason you feel like you need to be careful around him.
The problem isn’t him, it’s no one’s fault, really. You know he’s just as nice and supportive, but it seems like the pin he did on you is still in your head. They can always out win you in a fight if you don’t pay attention, and the thought of it makes your skin crawl. Ignoring it most of the time, you trust them all equally. It’s better here than back in camp. If you can still call it that anymore.
Being here, made you realise how toxic it was back then. They don’t judge and punish you for making simple mistakes; they won’t even look at your scars twice or ask about them, and most importantly, no one forces you into something uncomfortable.
You feel safer.
Pushing the constant nightmares and headaches away, it really is more safe and peaceful here.
Today, after training, you cross paths with Ghost. You immediately notice that he’s carrying an almost comically large bag in his arms. Taking a closer look, you see it’s dry dog food. Dog food? Why would he need that? You never took him as someone with pets, and you never saw dogs around on base. Thank God you didn’t.
You nod briefly at him and can’t help it but approach him out of curiosity.
»Do you have a dog?«
He grunts, side eyeing you for a moment.
»Just gonna feed Riley. A K9.«
So, they do have military dogs. How come you never saw them? Back in the old camp, the dogs could roam freely on base. But they also weren’t really nice dogs, always barking and ready to attack anyone. Even you were once chased by a large German Shepherd, almost getting bitten if you weren’t fast enough.
You simply nod back, not sure what to answer to that. Of course, he could sense your shift into uneasiness and nudges your shoulder lightly while walking down the base with you.
»You should get to know some. They’re not scary, don’t worry.« That makes it better only for a moment before you fully process his words. There isn’t really a way you can deny his offer and nod slightly, following him wordlessly. He isn’t as talkative either, but you don’t think that’s a bad thing. You’re lost in thought once he speaks up, shifting the big bag of dog food into his left arm.
»Ever met a big dog? Anything?«
You’re standing outside his office as he asks, opening his door with a key while he waits for your answer.
»Kind of. Got chased by one.« He can’t help but pause for a moment at your blunt answer, eventually getting his door open and stepping in. You follow him in and close the door behind you, noticing a bigger German Shepherd sitting up on the ground. It’s tongue sticks out and seems to be happy about seeing you both, judging from it’s wagging tail.
The dog stays silent though, patiently waiting for their owner to give them some sort of permission. You stay standing near the door, watching the two silently, hoping it won’t do anything. Ghost puts the large bag down against the wall and steps closer to the dog, kneeling down as it happily walks to him and enjoys the few hat pats he gives. You watch them both interact, visibly relaxing slowly as long as the dog is near Ghost and gets fed, getting a few more pats from its tall owner. He turns to you and introduces you to the dog, his hand staying on the dog’s back.
»That’s Riley. A sweet girl- will be joining our next mission, as far as I know.«
That’s totally great. Yeah, sure, you could work with a big dog while having a fear of them. You nod either way, shifting on your feet as you watch the dog from the closed door. Riley munches on her food, seemingly content.
»She seems… nice.«
He can see how unsure you are about the dog, and he guessed he would need to get you used to dogs somehow. Ghost sits down beside Riley, nodding towards her.
»You can pet her. She’s friendly, won’t bite.« He is trying to loosen the tension with a small joke, only seeing how you glance at him before looking back at Riley. Eventually, you approach her with silent steps, being cautious of the still-eating dog. You kneel down beside Ghost, firstly just watching her with anticipation in silence. Riley is quick to realise you are close now too and lifts her head off the bowl of food, trying to get to know you eagerly. She takes a step towards you, and you stay still, not wanting to accidentally make her angry. Ghost beside you can’t help it but feel amused watching you be so stiff while also watching Riley to make sure she won’t make you even more scared.
Riley sniffs around the air shortly before leaning towards your hands on your knees, taking a sniff at them. Before you know it, she’s licking at them. You cringe at the feeling, leaning a bit away from her.
Beside you, Ghost grins under his mask, glad that you don’t seem to be scared and more amused at how you react to Riley’s sudden affection. Suddenly, the K9 is trying to lick at your face, but you turn away with a small groan. Ghost pets her on the back, commanding her to sit down for now.
It takes a moment for Riley to fully calm down, her tail still wiggling back and forth. Ghost hands you some treats and wants to show you what tricks this joyful dog can do. Riley follows his commands flawlessly, rolling over, laying down, playing dead, able to stand on her back paws for a few seconds.
You extend your hand to give her a few treats- the small cookies in shape of bones in the palm of your hand. She eats it out of there happily, probably having a blast right now.
Riley is a good dog, even when she wants to give you affection through licking your hand, which mostly feels weird, but overall she doesn’t overwhelm you like the past dogs in your life.
Ghost also seems to be satisfied with the end result, however, he couldn’t let go of your words earlier. Normally, he would mind his business, but this is a sixteen-year-old we’re talking about.
»So, you were chased by one?«
You glance at him shortly, unsure of how to explain it to him now. You try it out, explaining it to him as shortly as you can.
»We also had some K9’s on camp and I was chased by one because I wasn’t careful enough.« You don’t realise how shocking that sounds before he gives you a look of disbelief. He asks again, gently petting Riley behind her ear.
»Your own camp had dogs, and one chased you? Why’s that?« You only shrug in response, not sure yourself. The dogs were mostly trained to be aggressive and were held rather roughly.
»I believe they got extra trained to be as aggressive as possible.«
He only hums out in acknowledgement, letting go of Riley and standing back up. Every time he hears more about your camp it is when he loses five years of his life. You follow right after him, standing up and getting a last glance at the sweet dog.
»Go, get your shower.« He mumbles, reminding you of taking your shower since you joined him after training, finally able to rinse off your sweat. You nod and leave without another word, taking a quick rest before eating dinner in the mess hall.
a/n: Hope you had fun reading this, it was a bit longer than the last part. The next one is probably going to be just as long. I hope you enjoed it!
hihi1 is it okay if you do framed traitor!reader with the 141 (platonic relationship) where they turn into a social recluse due to severe anxiety? so they withdraw from the team, only speaking on missions and only showing themselves when they need to. and one day, the team gets into a life threatening situation and the reader saves them?? im not tryna make you do anything, but thank you if you choose this!
a/n: of course! :], I love accused traitor user, I really need to make a tag for all the posts about them, sorry for this taking a bit! This one I will be splitting into two parts, please remind me to do so!
Gaz:
-He always felt so guilty when he was you worried and anxious and silent through the halls. It was wrong, it was wrong for you. He missed you, missed your little jokes even if you were a bit silent to begin with
-honestly doesn’t expect you to even help them once he and price get tossed deep into enemy base territory, ghost and soap in the cell beside them. Price had tried to reassure him that you were still loyal to the team, but… gaz couldn’t forgive any of them for what they did to you
-was half fainted when you got to him, waking up in medbay… sighing softly when he noticed your signatures on a ‘get well’ card
price:
-tries anything in his power to get you to open up to him, to let him help, to let him fix the hurt and fill the void he knew he had caused you, under his orders, his command. He just wanted you to have peace
-the day before the mission went wrong, he was begging laswell to find you a bit of help without alerting people to mark things on your files, but now it looks like that issue would be put into second place.
-the cell he was in with gaz was partially stained and damaged, making him recoil as he tried to at least sleep, or calm gaz down. Price was sure you’d show up- eventually
Being Miguel’s legitimate daughter that he left behind and hosting Venom [FEM]
[Platonic Drabble]
c/w: cringe writing, angst
—
[Unedited]
“How dare he?”
You ignored the symbiote raging in your head as you watched your father Miguel finish the battle with the Green Goblin variant. Binding him with glowing red organic webs and aligning him up and over his shoulder.
“How dare he return here?!”
“Venom,” you trailed exasperated. Obviously you weren’t happy at all to Miguel either but he hadn’t even seen you yet so what does it matter? Originally you and Venom had fully intended to take down Goblin and inform Peter B. Parker there was a variant in your dimension. (Don’t ask how you know him).
But then Miguel showed up instead, and honestly you should’ve expected that he would because he was the one who led the spider society. And he was among the first to know of any anomalies or unusual readings in any dimension.
And only Jessica and Lyla were a witness to the internal conflict inside him at the prospect of going to his daughter’s dimension. The daughter he abandoned in favor of a different one, a different daughter, a different universe… a different life.
He was absolutely certain that you hated him and you did, you held such bitterly angry and maliciously hateful feelings for him for such a long time. When you were young all you felt was confusion for his disappearance, but as you grew older and as time passed those feelings turned from rage at his betrayal… to utter heartbreak and despair at his departure.
For the longest time you’d believed that you’d done something wrong, because what had tog done that was so bad? What had you done that was so wrong? You didn’t mean to.. whatever it was you didn’t mean to.
Eventually you had come to learn that this was not a fault of yours, but of Miguel’s. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong, and you didn’t deserve this. Nobody did.
So you grew in the suffocatingly isolating darkness that was hate and grief. And as time passed you built walls thick and tall surrounding yourself, barbed defenses to protect your broken and vulnerable pieces. Behind those steeled doors you also tucked away the last part of your inner child, to keep her safe and protected.. from ever feeling this abandonment again.
When you were fourteen you’d found Venom, and at the time you had been living on the streets for close to two years. At fourteen is when you had very nearly quit on life, being alive was pain.. constant hurt that was very close to swallowing you whole.
Venom had stopped you, not because they had talked you out of it but more so because you were intrigued by the way they had glided across the ground. Even more so interested by the way the deep onyx goop slid up your hand before sinking into your body.
And you’ve been together ever since, the constant babble of the alien grated your nerves slightly but other than that you’d grown to love having them attached to you. And you wouldn’t change it for anything—
“[Y/Name]?”
You froze, previously having turned away from the scene of Miguel opening a glowing golden portal on the street below your perch to make a swift exit. But his voice had stopped you, and you’re not sure why you had even bothered to halt in your tracks.
“Wonderful,” you spat with toxin, “you remember my name.”
Miguel shouldn’t have been taken aback by your response, and he shouldn’t have been thrown off by your bite. He didn’t deserve to feel confused as to why you had responded to him so aggressively— because he knew why you had.
“Of course I do, I gave it to you.”
“Right,” you replied boredly before you were moving forward intent to leave the conversation there.
“[Y/Name]!” He called, and again you shouldn’t have given him even a second of your time but your broken and guarded heart longing for answers seemed to work your feet for you.
“[Y/Name], keep moving. Or I will. He does not deserve your time. He does not deserve you.”
“Did you ever wonder if I had even survived after you left? Did it ever cross your mind even once if I was still alive?”
“I checked on you regularly.”
“I see, the technology to travel through the multiverse also grants you the ability to peer into the lives of people you have ruined.”
You still hadn’t turned around, refusing to give him any sort of indication that you had actually cared about whatever it was he had to say.
“Look, I-I know that I’ve screwed up. I know that I hurt you—”
“Hurt me?” You chuckled humorlessly, a hitch of pain in your throat and fire on your tongue. “Hurt. Me? You may have before.. but you’ll never hurt me again.”
Venom had come through on the last word, enunciating the end of the sentence with a snarl. Ferocious and purely built from the pure emotional pain they could feel coming from their host.
Miguel subtly flinched at the deep growl in your tone, not enough for you to see but enough of a twitch that your heightened senses had picked up on it.
And you chose that moment to make your escape, stepping forward and utilizing Venom to vanish within the pitch black abyss of the shadows. The added darkness provided by the night sky and waning pale moonlight casting deeper shadows aiding Venom in helping you disappear entirely.
“[Y/Name] wait!—” Miguel reached out expecting to touch flesh but was met with nothing.
He stepped back, looked left then right then both directions once more before he exhaled tiredly and leapt back down to the road below. He lifted the Goblin and threw him in before jumping in himself, the portal closing behind him leaving the desolate street in utter darkness once again.
You had watched, this time from the gargoyle statue attached to the side of the roof’s lip on the building above. Venom formed off your shoulder, their head with white eyes and a mouthful of razor sharp teeth complimented well by the black ink of their exterior. And their head stretched off your shoulder by several tendons and tendrils still attached to your body.
You met his blank, milky white stare as he spoke.
“He will return. Whether he wishes to talk or— something more.. what will you do?”
“I made my feelings clear, if he returns. If I see him in my universe again. We. Kill. him.”
You watched as Venom’s grin grew exponentially at your sinister promise. The ominous threat on Miguel’s life exciting him after all the years of trauma and pain he had inflicted upon their host Venom wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth in and never let go.
And if granted the opportunity he would seize it with little to zero hesitation.
Every Spider-Man needs a nemesis, no emotionally richer story than having that nemesis be your own daughter.
“You are sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’ve grown cold. Sinister.”
“I am what he made me.”
—
a/n: I’m a little stoned and had this abrupt idea— 🫢 this is weak and maybe a lil’ cringe.. I know that, I’ll make it legit when I’m not baked 😐👍🏽
