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leclucklerc · 7 months

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Hard Carry CL16 - 01. It's 2018, Baby!

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Summary: It's the big year of 2018 and y/n is looking forward to win her fourth championship title. A pretty boy with green eyes won't distract her damnit!

Word Count: 4.5k

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2012

When Formula One fans talked about paid driver, they said that the position can go either two ways.

The first one, is being proven unworthy for the seat. With the highly competitive nature that the sport serves, it will only took one race, one qualifying, only one bad day, to show the world that you don't have enough experience or talent to deserve a seat in Formula One. That the reason why you're one of the top drivers in the pinnacle of motorsport is because daddy's got money.

Unfortunately - to the fans, or even to the said paid driver themselves - this scenario is often the case.

It is such a bad branding for rookie to have. To be branded as a spoiled and talentless kid that doesn't know how to do anything without the help of their famously wealthy parents. For someone that ha just entered the sport, for someone that is still searching for fans and sponsors, this kind of branding can be the death of their career.

Yet, why is there so many paid driver when the risk is evident?

The second scenario, is the most unlikely one. Though, it is still possible.

There is a probability that a paid driver can enter the sport, and show the world that they're as talented as y/n l/n, just like what she did back in 2012 when she famously entered Formula One because her dad bought the Porsche Formula One team.

It was such a controversy back then, for such a young driver - a female driver, something that the sport had never seen in decades - to easily enter the pinnacle of motorsport with the large monetary support from her dad. Back then, when it was not revealed yet that her dad had bought the team, many had anticipated her debut. When the news came out, many had muttered things like-

"Maybe she's just that talented?"

"She did won a lot of trophies in the lower category."

"Who cares? It's a sign that Formula One is finally evolving!"

"Bet she got a lot of skills."

And well, y/n does have skills. People had actually anticipated her arrival at first, saying that it’s time for Formula One to change and she will be the one to start the change.

Though back in 2012, that was not the reason why she managed to get into Formula One. Her dad, a famous billionaire from France, had bought the Porsche Formula One team and gave one of the seat for his daughter.

Cue, the many controversy.

Now, when she looked back, y/n really have to admit that the online and offline attack that she had received back then was simply atrocious. News outlets and magazines would print photos of her without her knowing, calling her a spoiled princess who is throwing tantrum and making Formula One a joke to the eyes of everyone.

Sport critics would make a whole segment with previous or current Formula One stars to talked about her. Many calling her undeserving, talentless, and many many sexist slurs that she doesn't even want to remember anymore.

While, okay, being a paid driver, it’s obvious that controversy will always follow. Thought, back then, she had thought, if she was a man, would the controversy became this big?

Paid drivers, after all, is known secret to everyone who watches the sport. Formula One is an expensive sport to start with, so it's no wonder that many people from a privileged background would start using Formula One as a chance for them to have a career outside of their wealthy family.

And don't get her started with drivers who has connections with retired Formula one Drivers!

At least half of the grid is the son or a friend or a family friend of a retired driver. If you want to talk about the sport with the most nepotism, y/n thinks that Formula One is up there.

Though, her controversy got blown up this big just because she has one thing that separates her from the rest.

She's a girl.

A girl who has no space in the world of motorsport.

Someone who doesn’t have balls hanging between her legs and somehow, it made people think that she’s less than them.

Honestly? Fuck them.

She knows the world of Motorsport. She knows, if her dad didn’t bought the team, there is no way her dream to become a Formula One driver will come true. No matter how much they preach about equality, women in sport, or even feminism, there is no way any of these teams will even look at her.

How can she get into the sport when no one will give her a chance? When everyone in this goddamn sport will always think that the world of Motorsport is only for men and she has no place Ini it? It’s only fair for her to use her advantage so that she somehow can have an equal ground with everyone else here.

During the start of the 2012 season, y/n is already in a bad mood from the start.

She fucked her qualifying. So fucking badly. She honestly thinks it's because of the added pressure from the press as well as the pre-race jitters that she had, almost throwing up in the garage due to how fucking nervous she is. All of those added, and yes, the result is a really bad qualifying.

P10 honestly is a really bad position when you have a car like Porsche. After all, her other teammate, Antonio Bacque, managed to snag P3 during the qualifying.

It's an embarrassing result and she really hates it. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that y/n was going to be eaten by the media with that kind of result.

Her first interview ever since the announcement of her position was with some famous sport channel. Y/n knows them, considering the've been blasting a lot of her controversies and 'questionable' behaviors for their viewer to watch.

So she should've expected the question that they had prepared just for her.

"What do you think about your path towards Formula One?" asked the woman, blonde hair and seems to be older than her for a couple of years. "Do you think that you still deserve the seat without the help of your father?"

She had froze, eyes flicking towards he PR manager who also got her eyes widened. It seems, the interviewer had asked her a question that was not previously approved by her team. Illegal? She doesn't know. Nor she cares.

After all, she's really fucking exhausted at this point.

There are too many glances and cameras towards her way. Too many layered questions and fake empathy from those around her. Too many, judgmental look from those who doesn't even know her personally.

Y/n is tired.

"Yes," she said, staring straight back at the camera. "Yes I deserve it."

"How so?" pressed the reporter once again. Fully knowing that she's a paid driver. Fully knowing that she had just fucked her qualifying up. Fully knowing, that she haven't shown the world her skills.

Yet.

The female stared at the camera, she's aware that her next answer will be the headline of every major sports channels the next day. That this answer can be the one to make or break her career. A brand, that will stuck to her until her retirement.

Should she play the part of a spoiled child? Or should she play the part of a hothead driver with a too big ambition? She could play with the male fantasy and become a docile and demure little girl with too much naiveté in this cruel cruel world of motorsport. To become the doll for this sport to play with without care in this world.

But she's better than that.

She's y/n l/n and knows she's worth more than those fake personas and branding. She knows that she deserves her seat and she will be damned if she didn't prove it to the world.

"Like this,"

And, she gave them the middle finger.

In the end, all of those criticism changed during the Australian Grand Prix.

It's stuffy and unbearably hot inside the car. Her race suit didn't help much. If she's in any other situation, she would've complained to everyone that's willing to listen.

Though, at this moment, she found herself to not care.

Bright eyes stared at the car in front of her. She could see the familiar Mclaren in front of her, passing the checkered flag. She could see the Mclaren team cheering by the fence near him. Y/n could only see Mclaren in front of her.

Only one car out of 22.

"P2, y/n," breathed out her race engineer on the radio as she passed the checkered flag. There's a hint of disbelief and wonder on his tone. "Fucking P2."

She screams, no doubt flooding the team radio with her rather inhumane scream as she let go her steering wheel and hold the top of her helmet. It's a bit unbelievable, a bit hard to belief, and of course, so so fucking wonderful.

"YES!" screamed the woman. "YES YES YES! OH MY GOD!"

Y/n could hear the announcer announcing the result of the race, voice excited at what just happened. After all, today on the 18th of March 2012, a Formula One history was just made. This day would be written as one of the most memorable moments in the history of Formula One.

As she hopped out of her car, her team is already out there, ready to celebrate with her.

Some would have criticized that action as excessive, considering that she didn't won the race. Though, this race was the debut race for Porsche. This is the race where the team can show the world that they're not here to play. They're here to win.

It could be said, that both the team and y/n's goal are aligned.

The girl wants to show the world of motorsport her worth. Want to show everyone, that she deserved her seat in this sport. Want to show, in this men dominated sport, a girl like her too, can thrive.

Her team too, wants to show the world of motorsport their worth. To show everyone that Porsche Royale Formula One team is here to stay and to make history.

Maybe that's why they worked so well. Maybe, that's why both Porsche and y/n became unbelievably loyal to each other. That the team, had became her second home and y/n had become someone that the team can trust fully.

If she looked back towards that day, she can confidently say that it was one of the happiest day in her life. It was her first race in Formula One, it was the start of her historical journey in this sport, and of course, it was the day that she managed to shut every criticism that was directed at her way.

It was satisfying.

2018

Y/n's presence is almost mythical at the grid.

Which is a bit weird, considering she had been a constant presence in the grid for years at this point. Still, it still didn't diminish the almost divine status that she had achieved amongst the fans of motorsport.

After all, there are drivers that's like that. Drivers that can command a room with their simple presence or someone that had reached so many achievements throughout their career that it sounds almost unbelievable. Drivers, that you had ever only heard of and never seen. Drivers, that had inspired the next generations of motorsport enthusiast to follow this adrenaline filled career path.

Y/n is one of those drivers.

Today is the pre-season testing and y/n is ready to retire from the sport.

"I'm going to retire," said Y/n as she groaned, stretching her back inside of Porsche's hospitality. "Like for real."

Truthfully, the weather today is perfectly warm. Barcelona in February had never been glaringly hot. The sun is shining above them and yet the temperature didn't rise unbelievably high. It should be a good day to do your daily routine and well, for y/n, this should be the perfect weather to do the pre-season testing.

Though, the ache on her joints is saying otherwise.

A hand hit her shoulder playfully. "You're only 23" said her athletic trainer, Luca. "That's like the age where everyone started their career," he said as he slid a strange concoction of healthy smoothie in front of her. "Drink this."

"But I started my career when I was 17," whined the woman as she sniffed the drink. It smells healthy. And weird. She really doesn't like it. "It's almost 6 years, I think it's an appropriate time for retirement, or maybe a promotion. Do you think I'll make a great team principal?"

The mere thought of this woman being Porsche's new team principal sends shiver down Luca's back. "Honestly, don't even joke about that because I seriously think Herman will get a heart attack."

Y/n laughed at that. Just imagining her team principal being shocked to the point of a heart attack just because she's going for a retirement is a bit funny to her.

It's the start of the 2018 season and she could feel excitement ringing through the air.

Somehow, the grid feels different than usual. People seems more excited, a bit wary, and yet, still excited. Y/n likes to think that it was because how exciting the 2017 season was, considering how intense the battle between her and Lewis for the driver championship title. Though, she knows that it was not the reason.

She glanced towards the cameras that littered around her.

In this season, somehow, there will be a documentary crew film documenting their 2018 season. Which is, weird. Formula One teams are notorious with their secrets and fear of corporate espionage after all. Now they're letting a filming crew to document all of the behind the scene of the season?

It's a new concept.

Herman had told her that almost all teams in the grid had allowed the filming crew to lingered around the garage. Well, except Mercedes and Ferrari - which shocked her a bit because she really think that this kind of thing is something that Lewis would do. But oh well.

Hopefully, this kind of coverage can boost the ratings of Formula One and make the sport more known to the general public. It will be great if there's a lot of new fans who will start to watch the sport from the documentary.

"Now that there's a film crew following us around," started y/n with a snicker, leaning back on her seat. "I think it will be more dramatic for me to announce my retirement right now, no?"

Luca sighed, "Y/n-"

"I hope you're not serious about that," said a dry voice behind her.

She doesn't even have to turn around to see who's standing behind her. "Herman!" she greeted, cheerful as always and as if she was not talking about possible retirement just a few seconds ago. "My favorite team principal, how are you?"

"Good," said the German, raising an eyebrow at her. "As long as your retirement plan stays like that. A plan."

The female nudged his shoulder playfully. "You know I love you too much for that."

"Really," muttered the team principal as if he doesn't believe what she's saying. "With how you behave lately, I really doubt that."

That, actually, made her laughed louder. "What do you mean? I've been a perfect worker!" she said, tone full of teasing. "I'll be a more star worker if our car this season is perfect like always." At this, she added a wink towards a team of mechanics that's sitting on the next table, eliciting a round of laugh from them.

"I'm counting on you then," said Herman as he took a seat in front of her. "I'm here to talk about other things."

She blinked. "What other things?"

The pre-season testing had barely started and he's already here to talk some serious stuff towards her? She's allergic to that.

"Someone wants to meet you," continued Herman as he took out his iPad, writing something on it. His thick rimmed glasses glinting. "It's a favor from a friend."

"Oh?" asked y/n. "Like, I don't know if you're aware, I'm a pretty popular girl," she started and Luca actually has the nerve to roll his eyes at her. "Lots of people want to meet me."

"It's a favor from Fred," continue the man, ignoring her comment. "It seems they found a star driver or something, someone that they really cherish. And apparently that rookie is a huge fan of yours"

Y/n blinked at that. Fred Vasseur is the team principal for Sauber Formula One team, one of the teams in the grid right no. They never really interacted much with Sauber, though she do knows that Herman and Fred are friends. Golf buddy or something. While the Sauber team itself is not one of the top team that will compete for the championship, it's famous for one thing.

Its relation to Ferrari.

While true, it's not like Sauber is Ferrari's b team like what Toro Rosso is to Red Bull, they still have a really close partnership with each other. Like really close. So close to the point that almost every part of Sauber came from Ferrari. For Fred Vasseur himself to ask a favor to Herman for their rookie driver can only mean one thing. This rookie driver is projected to drive for Ferrari.

A competitor then, she thought idly.

"Well, I'm honored," the woman finally said. "So where's the superstar?"

"They should be here soon-"

Just at that, someone opened the door towards Porsche's hospitality, calling Herman's name. "Herman!" greeted Fred as he entered the building with a perky energy. "And of course, y/n, always lovely to meet you."

"Freddie, Froyo, Fredman, it's been awhile," she greeted back, standing up to give the man a short hug.

Maybe it's because Sauber itself is not a champion winning team that it made them interact easier. After all, she can’t even imagine greeting Christian or Toto like this.

"Yes, yes," laughed the man, not looking the slightest bit uncomfortable at the random nicknames being used. "I told Herman already, but there's someone that want to meet you."

It was at this, that y/n realized that there's someone standing behind Fred.

A man, maybe around y/n age, a bit younger perhaps, could be seen standing a bit awkwardly. He's wearing the white and red Sauber shirt, paired with a ripped skinny jeans. From the get go, it's obvious that he seems uncomfortable at the sudden familiar setting of Porsche's hospitality. At the same time, his eyes looks excited and a bit jittery.

Y/n immediately knows that this is the future superstar. Sauber's apparent cherished rookie driver who is now being projected to be one of Ferrari's future driver.

For a career prospect, not bad. A Ferrari driver certainly is a good option. Though, y/n is sure if this Formula One driver gig doesn't work out, he can be a model or someone in the entertainment industry. Because honestly, the guy is really pretty to look at.

Warm green eyes, messy dark colored hair, and a nice face to look at. If he ever decided to become a model, he could probably be a successful one.

"Y/n," called out Fred, catching her attention. "This is Charles Leclerc, he's a big fan of yours."

He seems a bit embarrassed at that mention, what with how his cheeks started to redden and how he flail his hands around. Which is, cute.

"Really?" she said, smiling as a teasing grin entered her eyes. "Really honored, then."

Charles let out a huge smile at that, looking a bit relieved. "I should be the one saying that," he said and his English is thick with accent. French, she realized. "I've been following you since your debut."

She let out a low whistle. "2012? That's a long time," laughed y/n easily. "You were how old back then?"

"15," he replied.

"Ah, I'm only 2 years older than you then," she said, putting it at the back of her mind. "At long last, it's no fun to be the youngest on the grid for so long."

Herman coughed, eyes staring at her straight in the eyes, "There's Verstappen, he's also two years younger than you."

"But Max is way too serious!" she whined out, remembering Christian’s favorite driver. Ever. "It's no fun to tease him when he gets all broody, which is like 70% of the time."

"It's because you keep annoying him," said Herman dryly. "Anyway, Charles, correct? What do you think of F1 so far?"

Now, all of them are seated at the same table, making conversation with each other. Honestly, y/n is a bit invested at the topic. Moreso on Charles because with him entering his rookie season is like a wake up call for her.

Lately, more and more young driver debuted in F1. It started with Max and Carlos back in 2015. Younger and talented drivers with more vigor and a brand new vision for the sport. Back when she debuted, the grid was way older with more experienced driver filling up the spots. Now, it seems, the teams want to change the way they view the sport a bit.

Younger drivers started to arrive every year. Guys who had karted since they were four or guys who basically just skipped F2 straight into F1. Thinking back, it's a bit sad, because it made her realize that more of the older driver too, will retire soon. That the grid will change soon.

Hm, she thought. It's an added pressure for her.

Maybe it's because she debuted so young and had become a world champion when she was only in her second season, it made her think that she's way older than she actually is. This year is her seventh year in F1 and now she has three driver championships under her belt.

It's a bit jarring thought that she is now one of the most experienced driver in the grid.

Charles talked about his experience so far with so much enthusiasm and starry eyes that it made her want to protect him a bit. Which is normal, because to all of them, Formula One is a dream that they had ever since childhood. When they first entered the sport, it's only normal for them to look at everything with full of reverent and wonder.

The male seems to live and breathe just for racing. A feeling, that y/n can relate to.

"So you liking it so far?" she spoke up, catching everyone attention. "Does it fill up your expectations?"

"Yes," nodded Charles with a huge smile. "I'm really excited for the first race."

"Nice," grinned y/n.

Really, if anyone ever asked her what is one of the defining moment in her life, she would described this moment at one of them.

With Charles smiling in front of her inside the Porsche's hospitality, with the impending knowledge of a new generation of Formula One, and with the fear of destroying all of those Formula One hopeful dreams. It was at this moment that she decided something.

She really really wants this sport to be enjoyable for the young drivers. For them to have someone to talk to and not became a clueless little shit like she was all those years ago.

It was a decision that stayed on her mind as they continue their conversation. Herman seems interested in Charles, not that they can sign him for Porsche considering his love for Ferrari, but still, having an option is still a good one.

They stayed and chatted there until both Charles and Fred presence is needed back in the garage.

"Hey Charles," she said a few minutes later when both Fred and the younger male was about to leave Porsche's hospitality. The younger had asked her to sign three hats, saying that it's for him and his brothers who is also a big fan of hers.

Perking up, he motioned for Fred to walked ahead before he jogged back to where she's standing.

Pulling out of her phone, y/n let out a grin towards him, "Give me your number yeah? I think it will be fun to stay in contact."

Charles stared at her.

"Seriously?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

"Yeah."

Almost immediately, he scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket, to the point that he almost dropped it to the ground. It was such a comical sight that it made her laugh, which seems to only embarrassed him further. Maybe when they became a lot closer she can tease him more about this? Certainly a thought for the future.

They exchanged number and Charles thanked her many times, saying things that she's his idol and he really admire her. Y/n merely watched him, amused, at the blabbering, before he seems to realize that he had talked too much and excused himself in such a hurry.

Well, certainly, Formula One will be more interesting in the coming years, right?

Humming, y/n entered the Porsche hospitality once more, only to be called by Herman to discuss something.

"So," started the man, finger idly fiddling with the papers in front of them. "We need to talk about your teammate,"

"Ah," realized y/n. This is going to be a long and painful discussion.

Drive to Survive Season 1 episode 3

It's all about Porsche

Will Buxton appeared on screen, smiling. "The thing about Porsche is," started the man. "It's a team that most drivers doesn't want to be in."

A shot of y/n talking with Herman and the mechanics could be seen. Her face is serious as they discussed details about today's Grand Prix and the car. They seems dedicated in their work, a true showcase of the prowess of one of the top team in Formula One.

Which makes Will's earlier statement a bit bizarre.

"At least, if you're not y/n l/n," continue the man with a small laugh. "It certainly not because they have a bad car-"

Porsche's Formula One car could be seen zooming at top speed, a clear indicator on how fast the vehicle is going.

"-Nor is it because it's a bad team-"

Y/n's car could be seen entering the pit stop, something that the Porsche team handle flawlessly without a hitch.

"It's because of the strict hierarchy there," laughed Will, a wry smile appearing on his face. "A really really strict one."

Herman appeared after that, eyebrow raising at the question that the producer had asked off screen. "I think it's quite obvious who will be the no.1 driver," said the man bluntly. "It's an open secret in Formula One, no? About no.1 and no.2 driver?"

Christian Horner appeared in the dark interview room, wearing a dark cardigan and a light blue cardigan underneath it. The man laughed, almost throwing his head back at that. "No.1 and no.2 driver is common in Formula One, but no one impose it as strict as Porsche," said the man, eyes full of amusement. "The team is basically a y/n cheerleading squad."

Many clips appeared after that, of team orders to let the woman through or the team failures to handle a simple pit stop when it's not y/n on the car. Articles too appeared, of how often Porsche has to change one of their driver and to find someone that is perfectly fine to be the second best in their team.

It's a team that prioritize y/n. It's a team, that undoubtedly will choose y/n l/n as their number one driver and will never budge on that decision.

The thing is, if Porsche is not a championship winning team, this shouldn't be a problem. Many drivers are grateful to have a seat in Formula One even they ended up not in one of the top team.

But Porsche is a team that fights for championship. Their cars are fast. They're the team that fight for wins and podiums. They don't fight for points, they want wins and glory.

A complete domination. Just like their motto. And when a driver tasted that sweet sweet taste of victory, it's hard to stop.

"Formula One driver needs to think that they're the best," said Will. "It's a mindset that they need to have if they want to survive in this sport," he continued. "Can they really, give up wins for their teammate? when their direct rival is that teammate herself?"

Y/n has too much presence for her to be the number 2 driver.

She is the icon of the sport, someone that is way too talented and way too influential to be the second best driver. The team itself was basically assembled around the woman needs.

The mechanics is someone that she can easily discuss the car with, her race engineer remains unchanged ever since her debut because she's comfortable with him, heck, even Herman position is secured because y/n actually likes him as a team principal.

It's y/n l/n very own personal cheering squad and everyone knows it.

"Fighting y/n on track is already a hard fight to win," continue Will. "A really hard one."

A clip of her racing and passing so many drivers could be seen. Her skilled handling of the car, overtaking those in front of her, and being an all around driver that deserves the title of a world champion.

"Fighting y/n for a spot as Porsche's number one driver? Impossible."

"The drivers need to understand that we're fighting for championship," said Herman as the scene cuts back into him. "We need someone that can support us in that cause."

Christian appeared, laughing. "Well, there's a reason why they need to change their second driver five times since 2012," said the man, looking so fucking amused.

Porsche after all, is y/n's kingdom.

Taglist!

@mellowarcadefun @glai1023-blog @jjkclub @newlifeforus @jpg3 @sp1cycurry @eternalharry @be-your-coffee-pot @itsjustkhaos

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rboooks · 11 months

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The Adoptive Son. Part 3

A pair of large, cornflower blue eyes stare across the living room of a luxurious penthouse at a nervous-looking man. The pair belong to a young teenager named Tim Drake, who, for the past few weeks, had spoken only a handful of words with Dick since Operation Honey Pot had begun.

They were waiting for Crowne to go get the surprise he had special ordered for Drake from an acquaintance

He tended to stare at him whenever he was around. Sometimes Dick didn't think Drake would even blink. It felt a little like Drake was starstruck by Dick- but he couldn't figure out what he had done to earn such rapture from Drake.

Other times, Drake would study him the same way a scientist would study a newly discovered bug- fascinated but weary, as though he didn't know if it was dangerous. So the scientist needed to pin the bug to a board and take it apart to understand it.

It sort of made Dick uneasy.

The night Crowne had brought him back, Drake happily played some video games while his babysitter- a sweet college student named Nancy- had been working on her assignment at the table.

Drake had turned to greet Crowne and had promptly choked on his own spit at the sight of Dick. Crowne had run off to cook them a meal, insisting Nancy finish her homework and not worry as he cooked.

She had smiled gratefully, turning back to her books while Drake had been rooted by the tv, with the most awe-struck expression Dick had ever seen.

Dick is a little surprised by how well Crowne treats Nancy Salazar.

Nancy is studying to be a pediatric occupational therapist. She adores children and is fascinated by the physical therapist aspect of the medical field.

Dick had learned that Nancy had been struggling to pay her Gotham University tuition after losing her job to a rouge attacking her workplace and the company deciding they needed to make budget cuts to complete the repairs.

She had also fallen behind on her bills due to her father suffering a medical emergency and the family pooling together what little they had to help him get life-saving surgery.

Her dad had been the family's primary provider for as long as Nancy could remember. Since neither of her parents could speak English, they had limited employment options. Nancy's siblings were all younger then than her, so they couldn't help much with the bills.

She had tried to take over as the eldest daughter, but soon it became apparent she was close to losing the house her parents had left their home country for to build a better future for their children. It devastated her.

She had been on the brink of becoming desperate for any job when she had run into Crowne at a wifi-cafe shop. She had seen Tim struggling to get through the door with his wheelchair and had gone to help him. (the child had seen internet videos of parkour and chosen to attempt the tricks himself. He had broken his leg from jumping from one roof to another.)

Her kind actions got Crowne attention, and he invited her to sit with them, then witnessed her have a meltdown when the owner of the cafe told her he had just filled the barista position she had come for an interview for.

It must have all piled up until Nancy couldn't hold back.

Crowne and Drake had consulted her, listening to her woes. After she calmed down, the two adults exchanged contact information to get to know each other. He had offered a babysitting job with complete benefits and a full-ride scholarship. Crowne had even gone far and beyond, paying off all her father's medical expenses and debts.

Dick knew all this because he had done a background check on her to see if she was involved in Crowne's schemes. Her story felt just a tab bit too far fetch for all the good fortune of meeting Crowne that fateful day.

She even admitted that she was sure she would have resorted to a life of crime with how desperate she had been back then.

When she came back clean- just the eldest daughter of immigrants trying to make it in this hellish city- Dick had thought Crowne was infatuated with her.

Nancy was a very attractive young lady, and it would not be the first time a rich man took advantage of a woman in finical distress. He hadn't found evidence yet, but Dick would keep an eye on her to ensure she was safe.

Her involvement was a lot easier to dismiss than it was for Drake.

"You and Danny are dating. He told me last night." Drake says after about half an hour of Scientist-looking-at-bug staring.

Dick throws on his best Wanye smile, making sure it's both charming and besotted. "Yes. We've agreed to become official. I hope you don't mind."

Drake tilts his head, looking ironically enough like a bird. "That depends."

"On what?"

"On what your intentions with Danny are." Drake puts down his Crowne laptop, which Danny had been programming and designing back when they started talking. The design is still the slimmest Dick had ever seen, small enough that it sat comfortably in Drake's school back and robust enough that it worked for all his gaming and photo developing.

It took Crowne about two months to complete what he called "modern," but it wouldn't be out to the rest of the public until Christmas when Crowne planned to reveal it to raise profits as high as possible.

The only reason Drake was allowed to have a model so early was simply that Crowne obviously saw him as a younger brother and sometimes maybe even a son. Dick certainly pick that up in the two-month undercover mission.

He must win over Drake as soon as possible for the sake of the mission. So far, he's come up with nothing incriminating, but more kids have disappeared. If the other boy can't stand him, it will seriously risk his access to Crowne's home and any clues on the missing children.

"I want to give him the life he deserves." Dick settles on. He's noticed that Drake is crazy intelligent. There was no reason to outright lie and get caught if the boy was smart enough to connect the dots.

"Danny deserves the world." Drake nods, stating the words like a fact. "Whatever you searching for, you won't find here."

What?

"Do you not want me to date Danny?"

Drake pauses, carefully turning the question in his head before answering. "I want someone to date Danny because they like him"

"I do like him."

"Do you?" Drake's eyes are practically ice, and Dick gets the sense he just walked into a trap. Carefully, he double-taps his left belt loop sending a warning sound to the Batcave. They won't pull him out yet, but it will have either Babs or Jason nearby in gear, just in case.

A soft click is heard from his right earring, and he knows Alfred is listening.

"I really do." He says in a warm voice.

Drake seems skeptical.

"Danny always had people falling for him. I had to tell him Jenny Wilson wasn't asking him for a private tour of his kitchen when she tried to get him to bring her back to the penthouse. He honestly thought she cared about his grape peeler. He's like that, you know? Though thoughtful, caring, kind, intelligent, and strong, Danny can't see that people generally think he's what they would want in a romantic partner. I think he was bullied a lot as a kid before his adoption, and it's ruined his ability to see his worth."

Dick tries not to scowl. Yes, he's suspected the same thing. He just hopes it's not why Crowne has inflicted so much pain.

He can't stand people who use bullying as an excuse. It doesn't justify anything they do, it also demonizes the victims, and they get too scared to report what they are going through. ''I can't claim to not be like the other people because I don't know them. I know myself, and I can promise that every inch of me wants to see Danny living the life he deserves."

Whatever Drake is going to say gets cut off by Crowne walking back from the elevator carrying a box. "Tim, come look!"

He settles the box on the coffee table, so Drake can reach over and open it. There is a small gasp of delight from the boy as he pulls out a well-done Robin hoodie. It's not over the top like most Robin merch, but it's not subtle either. It's so nicely done. Dick can even tell it's based on Jason rather than him.

The second Robin is Drake's favorite. The teen prices it by holding it up and cheering, "Oh my gosh! I love it, I love it! Where did you get this!?"

"One of Nancy's friends is majoring in fashion design. She overheard me say I wanted to get the second Robin merch that wasn't a blatant grab for money, and she had her friend draw up some designs. I will sponsor her and sell her work in our stores."

Crowne is wearing a Robin hoodie of his own, but this one is based on Dick, and for a moment, his heart soars at the sight of Crowne in his family colors. It's a dangerous thing.

He knows one of the pitfalls of undercover work is getting too attached to the lies. He couldn't allow himself to actually fall for someone like Danny Crowne. Nothing good would come out of it once he saw him jailed for everything he's done.

He hasn't gotten anything to show Crowne's crimes, but Bruce had enough proof for the shell companies doing strange and dangerous experiments.

They needed to figure out what the experiments were attempting to do. Still, they found small clues: systematics showed weapons that didn't intend to harm humans, half-erased research on "eco-energy," what looked like machines attempting to rip holes in reality, and glowing green liquid that made Bruce pale when Jason brought back a simple.

It made Dick angry that the liquid prompted his ex-mentor to contact Talia al Ghul to ask, but she claimed to know nothing of Danny Crowne. Bruce felt she was lying, so after asking Wonder Woman and Superman for help, the big three went to Nanda Parbat to look for clues.

Dick wasn't sure what they found, but Bruce had a surprise for him back at the cave once he finished visiting his "boyfriend."

They could take down Crowne Co. with what they did have, but there was a chance Crowne could claim that his scientists went rogue and let them take the fall. Also, they didn't have any names of the scientists. It was like the invisible man was conducting them on his own.

Dick had to wait a little longer. See the big plan and unravel it so everything can never be rebuilt.

Yes, he's only seen a good man who may be socially awkward once you get past his regal composure, and his speech may be a bit too formal. A passionate inventor who always tried to find a new ways to improve people's lives, especially in medicine.

A man who cooked because he liked feeding people.

A man who offered a helping hand because his parents were often mocked for their careers- Dick suspected they may have been prostitutes based on the small comments of people thinking "it wasn't real jobs and they should be ashamed for themselves"- but most of all, Dick found a man who seemed lonely.

Someone lost after life displaced him, desperately trying to find himself again. It made Dick feel better knowing someone like him was doing the same.

"What is your opinion, Dick?" Crowne asks, doing a slight turn. Dic can't fight the urge to lean in for a quick kiss, telling himself it was all for the mission and the butterflies he felt in his stomach were terrible indigestion.

Crowne smiled into the kiss, pressing a second one on Dick's lips before leaning back, looking a little flustered still, and over his shoulder, he saw Drake's eyes narrow.

Maybe the kid was jealous?

He didn't know, but he better keeps an eye on Tim Drake. Something told him not to underestimate that boy.

"I got you a Nightwing too. The first Robin and Nightwing are one of my favorite heroes. They make me feel safe. I know I shouldn't worry with them guarding me at night." Crowne says, and Dick fights hard not to flinch.

You have no reason to feel guilt. It's for the mission.

He hopes he finds proof soon.

(Part 1), (part 2)

#dc x dp crossover #The adoptive son #Part 3 #Death Defying #Tim is catching on that Nightwing may be playing with his brother's heart #Nancy is just another person luckly enough to be under Phantom's protection #Can you guess what bruce found?#Dick is starting to catch feelings

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quill-is-brainstorming · 1 year

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I've just re-read the short lived duel that Aeneas and Achilles have in Book 20 of the Iliad and it's actually the most hilarious fucking thing.

So it starts out with Apollo disguising himself as Lycaon, one of Priam's many sons, and telling to have a go at Achilles. Keep in mind that this is post-Patroclus Achilles. Aka: berserk Achilles. Aka: so fucking mad he would fight a literal river Achilles.

Aeneas, who is capable of critical thinking, says he doubts he can actually take him on. He also references a time when he was herding cattle on Mount Ida and Achilles ambushed him, adding that the only reason he survived then was because Zeus gave him enough strength to book it (cracking up the official times that he's been saved by a god from certain death to 3, you go dude!).

However, after a bit of back and forth and a ton of hyping up on Apollo's part, Aeneas decides to try anyway.

Like, what could possibly go wrong?

Achilles notices Aeneas charging at him and he begins to taunt him. It's something among the lines of: "I'm sorry, are you, background trojan character #61, actually gonna try and beat me? And then what? Do you think that Priam will reward you in some way? Maybe making you king after him? Well it's BULLSHIT, because Priam fucked so much that your chances of succeeding him are basically 0. Ahah. Loser."

Now, you'd think that maybe Aeneas got enraged at the comment and attacked him, or maybe he even got scared and backed down, but NOPE. What does Aeneas do?

Well, first of all, he insults Achilles' insults, comparing his bickering to that of a child. Literally, "I heard third graders do better than that." And then he decides to list his and Hector's entire fucking family tree.

You know that part of the Bible that's like "this guy sired this other guy, and this other guy sired yet another guy" and so on? It's basically that.

So after he's done with all that, Aeneas states that while he'd love to have a battle of insults with Achilles, because according to him he's actually very good at insulting people (his words, not mine), they should probably throw hands now. Achilles agrees.

The duel is shortlived and Aeneas gets his ass handed to him. Badly. As expected. And he's about die when ✨️POV shift✨️ we're not on Olympus where Poseidon, Hera and Athena are watching this absolute train wreck go down.

Poseidon, pitying Aeneas, suddenly goes on a rant. It's something among the lines of: "come on guys, look at him, he's just a little guy! He literally has no stakes in this war, he doesn't deserve to die here! He even gives us lots of gifts and sacrifices, he's literally such a nice guy. How can we do this to him!?

...oh and also he's part of some prophecy, Zeus would get mad if he died."

The fact that the way it's worded makes it sound like Aeneas being part of a literal prophecy is an afterthought to him absolutely floors me, Poseidon is literally just attached to a random dude that's fighting on the opposite side to his because he thinks he's nice.

After all that Hera is pretty unimpressed and states that she really doesn't care if our man lives or dies as neither her or Athena have ever saved a Trojan from death, she however adds that Poseidon is free to do whatever he wants.

The literal moment Hera stops talking, Poseidon lunges down from Olympus and onto the battlefield to look for the two combatants. When he does, he saves Aeneas like only he can do.

You know how when Diomedes first tries to kill Aeneas, Aphrodite gently folds her hands around him to shield him? There's none of that here. Poseidon just runs up to him and literally flings the motherfucker.

It literally says that he flies "high in the air". It's like a Looney Toons sketch.

So Aeneas lands and, while he's obviously a bit dazed, Poseidon proceeds to call him a madman and essentially tells him to never do something stupid like that again and just wait until Achilles is dead, then he'll be able to murder Achaeans to his heart's content. Aeneas is fine with that.

Achilles, who just saw his opponent just get yeeted into the fucking sky, just shrugs and goes "welp, guess that guy's off limits, I'm gonna go kill someone else now I guess lol".

This entire scene is pure fucking gold and the fact that I've literally never seen anyone talk about it just breaks my heart.

#tagamemnon #trojan war #the iliad #the aeneid #achilles #aeneas #apollo #poseidon #hera #athena

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alotofpockets · 2 months

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Lost & found | Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: Where Jake loses his favourite stuffed animal, and Katie helps you through a panic attack.

A/n: Part of the Mini Mate Universe

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.6k

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Over the past few months you had gone over to Beth and Viv’s place for dinner at least once a week. Jake loved his new aunties, and you enjoyed spending time with the couple and the many guests they seemed to have over at all times. Beth and Viv in turn were also enjoying having you and Jake around, you fitted right in with all Katie’s teammates, and well they just all loved Jake.

Today you would have brunch at their house, along with a few other girls from the team. Katie texted you she needed to finish up some things and head your way in 30 minutes, just enough time for Jake to finish his Bluey episode, you thought while you finished packing up his bag.

When Katie arrived, she greeted you with a kiss, “Hi baby, are you ready to go?” Jake’s show was still playing in the background, but it was long forgotten by the boy when he heard Katie’s voice. The sound of his tiny footsteps running your way made the both of you smile and look into the hallway. “Kawie!” You didn’t think you would ever grow tired of his excitement for your girlfriend, or the way he pronounced her name. “Hi mini mate, I’ve missed you!” She picks him up and twirls him around. “Let me just turn everything off, and I will meet you at the car?”

Each time you were heading somewhere with Katie, she insisted on driving to your house, and head to wherever you were going together. You had told her many times that you could just meet her at Beth and Viv’s, but Katie kept insisting to go together. Usually you took your car since Jake’s seat was in there, but now you walk outside and see Katie putting Jake into her car. “Wait, why are you putting him in your car? He needs his car seat.” Katie stepped to the side to show you the brand new car seat installed in the back of her car, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. Katie ruffled your son’s hair before closing the door softly. “What do you think?” You were still a bit shocked. “I think it looks great, but you really didn’t have to do that.” Katie takes your hand and leads you to her car. “I know I didn’t have to, but I’m in this for the long run, and I want to be able to go somewhere with the three of us and not make you drive every time.” You place a soft kiss on her lips, “You are the best, I love you.”

When you arrived it didn’t take long for Jake to run off to Laura who was playing with Myle. You loved knowing that any one of Katie’s teammates would look out for your boy when you were in a group setting, and that even though as a mom you would still keep checking in, you could also let it go a bit, knowing that he was cared for.

You spend about an hour talking with the group of girls before Beth said that she was going to take the dogs for a walk. Since the weather was so nice, everyone decided to tag along. You headed to the little beach nearby, where the dogs could run around freely. Beth and Viv walked up front, with two dogs running ahead of them, you and Katie followed with Jake on Katie’s neck, and the group of you was followed by a giggling Laura and Vic pushing each other around. It was interesting to see the different dynamics between the girls surrounding you, but you loved all of their company.

When you got back to Beth and Viv’s you all had lunch together, before you made the short drive back to your house. Katie knew you were in need of some one on one time with her, so she had asked Linda if she would watch Jake during his nap and the rest of the afternoon. It wasn’t until you had tucked Jake into his bed with Katie and Linda talking downstairs, that you realised that Jake had lost his stuffed bunny. You found out because Jake started loudly crying. “Mommy, me want Benny!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. “Shh, it’s okay kiddo, Mommy is going to go look for Benny.” You held the boy in your arms as the tears rolled over his cheeks. The women downstairs had heard Jake’s screams, and Katie came running with a different stuffed animal that she found amongst Jake’s toys. “Hi buddy.” She says sitting down next to you and while letting her hands go through your son’s hair. “I have a Mister Bear here, who really needs some cuddles. Do you think you can give him some cuddles?” Jake took the bear with a little hesitation. “Good job kiddo, you’re making Mister Bear very happy.” You say, wiping his tears away. “Come on, nap time. Linda will be right downstairs if you need anything.” With a kiss to his forehead, you leave his room.

Once you close his bedroom door, you start pacing the hallway. Katie takes your hand, “Let’s get downstairs, baby.” You continue your pacing when you get to the living room. “Why can’t I remember where I last saw his bunny?” It was frustrating that you could not picture the last time you saw Jake holding Benny. “It’s okay, baby, I will text Viv and ask her to look at their place, and we will go to the beach and check there. We’re going to find Benny, okay?”

You made your way over to the beach, the route passed Viv and Beth’s so if they would find the bunny you could go there instead. Viv texted before you passed their exit that they couldn’t find the bunny anywhere in the living room, hallway or backyard, where Jake had been today. So, the beach was your last hope.

After walking every inch of the luckily rather small beach back and forth for the third time, you plopped down on the sand. The frustrations and emotions were getting the better of you as you started crying. “What am I going to do? Benny is his favourite stuffed animal.” Your thoughts started spiralling. How were you going to be able to explain this to your toddler? You could already see the pout and the sadness behind his eyes. Your breathing sped up until it was getting hard for you to breathe. Katie noticed what was happening right away, and sat down in front of you. “Hey baby, look at me.” Your vision was blurry, but you turned your head in the direction of her voice. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay. Can you take a deep breath in for me?” You tried to take a big breath, but after inhaling for a second you were struggling again. “That was good, let’s try another one.” She took one of your hands and put it over her heart. “Can you feel my heartbeat, baby?” You nodded weakly. “Okay good, focus on my heart beating, and try to take another deep breath in.”

Focussing on Katie’s heartbeat helped you to stay grounded, and breath by breath, your breathing started to get more regular. “What happened?” You ask while wiping away your tears. “I think you just had a panic attack.” You stand up and start ridding yourself of sand. “Take it easy baby, let’s take a moment.” Katie tries to make you take a break. “No need, we need to find this bunny. I already ruined our afternoon, I don’t want to ruin it further by not coming home with Jake’s bunny.” Katie is quick to her feet and places her hands on your shoulder. “You did not ruin our afternoon. I will gladly search over this beach ten more times, if that means I got to spend time with you, and make Jake happy.”

Before you could respond to Katie’s kind words, you were interrupted by her phone ringing. “Hey Viv, you’re on speaker, y/n is with me.” Katie said as she picked up the call. “Ah that’s great. I have good news, we found Benny.” You couldn’t believe it and fell into Katie’s arms. “Thank you so much Viv. That is so good to hear.” Katie wrapped her arm around you, and placed a kiss onto your forehead. “Yeah thanks Viv. We’re at the beach now, so we’ll come pick it up on the way, if that’s okay with you.” Viv agrees, “Yeah, just one thing. The reason we couldn’t find it before was because Myle is the one that found him, and he might have a severed limb now. We are so sorry, y/n.” You shake your head, just happy that the beloved stuffed animal was found. “Don’t worry about it Viv, I’m just glad I don’t have to tell Jake that the whole bunny is gone.”

Once you got back home with the bunny and his loose arm, Linda was quick to say that she could fix him. Linda got to work right away, and got done just in time, as you heard Jake waking up upstairs. She handed you the bunny, and you made your way upstairs. “Hi Jakey.” Your son looked up at you with big hopeful eyes. “You won’t believe the adventure Benny has been on today.” You say as you reveal the stuffed animal. “Mommy found Benny!” You had never seen the boy wake up so quickly. “Actually auntie Viv did, because little Benny went on an adventure with Myle today.” You made up a story about Benny and Myle in hopes the boy would forget about the sadness of losing his stuffy, and by the smile on his face, you think you were doing a pretty good job.

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#mini mate universe #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc x reader

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cordeliawhohung · 1 month

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Soft Spot - Part 2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part thirteen of "soft spot"

taglist | playlist | dissection links

it's hard to clear your mind with so much smoke

warnings: soft and fluffy, domestic simon, slight anxiety, shitty cliffhanger

wc: 3k

The music that poured through your window was different than usual.

Normally your downstairs neighbor would play previously recorded songs through whatever stereo system they had set up in their room, but this sounded more vibrant. Their taste in music was good, so you never had much to complain about, and oftentimes you found yourself opening your window just to have a bit of background noise. What made this time so different was that, for once, it was live music. A guitar. By the sounds of it, they hadn’t been playing for very long, but you weren’t one to judge someone trying to learn. Though their plucking wasn’t good, they had a few strummed chords down pretty well, and by the sounds of it, they had found a progression they really enjoyed.

Those repetitive chords, along with Boo’s purring, accompanied you as you worked in the nursery. It had taken you a while to get the damn cat to calm down enough that he would stop attacking the clothes while you folded them, and he had properly curled up by your feet. While your son’s due date grew closer, he still made no signs that he was showing up anytime soon, which was both intimidating and comforting at the same time. You tried not to think too much about the prospect of giving birth those days, as you found all it really did was raise your anxiety about the whole predicament. Instead, you did your best to distract yourself with little tasks. Simon was a good help too, whenever he wasn't busy ogling at your swollen stomach, anyway.

You busied yourself with laundry that morning while you attempted to hum along with whatever tune your neighbor had composed. This laundry was different than any other you had done before as the clothes were significantly smaller than you were used to. You didn’t feel comfortable putting your son in unwashed clothes, as you didn’t even want to think about what sort of infections he could get had there been something on the fabric, and since he was about to show up any day, you figured you’d get that out of the way before your hands were too full otherwise.

That morning, you had washed roughly seven blankets, a handful of fitted sheets, and about half the world's stock of infant onesies. Most of them were thanks to Johnny, naturally, as he was really the only family you and Simon had. One of them had the words “I’m da bomb,” written on the front, which Simon informed you was extra ironic as Johnny was the demolitions expert. The onesie that had really gotten you was the one that said “World’s greatest nephew.” You cried upon seeing it — damn pregnancy hormones — even though Simon said it was tacky.

The most useful thing you had been gifted was a whole stack of diapers that had a wide age range, and would certainly last your son at least a year. Most of them had been from the office, actually. Or, at least that’s what they claimed. You had a sneaking suspicion it was actually from someone higher up the chain as an attempt at an apology for Sallow’s behavior on your last day. You did your best not to think about that instance too much, yet it always managed to wiggle into your brain somehow. His biting words, that look on his face as if he had won. Part of you wondered what ended up happening to him. Another part didn’t really care.

“Sure you don’t wanna take a break?” Simon spoke up from the doorway.

Halfway through folding a onesie with construction trucks on it, you looked up from your work. Simon was just about as restless as you were since going on leave, and unfortunately for you that meant he spent most of his time checking in on you as if you were a feral old lady. Chuckling, you turned your attention back to folding.

“It’s laundry, not hard manual labor,” you quipped.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” he countered.

“There’s a difference between relaxing and bed rest, and I think bed rest would make me go insane right about now,” you sighed as you tossed yet another folded onesie into the pile with the others.

“You’ve been fussin’ over the nursery since this morning,” Simon said.

“Is it not still morning?”

“It’s one, sweetheart.”

Blinking away your surprise, you looked at all the clothes that surrounded you. Your nursing chair was quite comfortable, even in your changed state, and it was quite easy to pile clothes and other items high in the hampers as you worked mindlessly. Normally it wouldn’t have taken you so long to do laundry, even with the large amount of clothes you sorted through. Perhaps you had the lethargy of pregnancy to thank for that.

“Oh,” you said simply.

Chuckling, Simon crossed the distance of the room and took your busy hands in his as he knelt in front of you. His hands seemed softer those days, and void of cuts and bruises. It wasn’t just the paternal leave that did that, as you two had only been off of work for maybe two weeks at that point. He hadn’t been deployed on a mission ever since he found out you were pregnant. Perhaps you had John to thank for that. You made a mental note to send him a nice box of cigars.

“Have you eaten?” Simon asked.

“Not since breakfast,” you answered.

A simple squeeze of your hands was all that was needed to prompt you up, with Simon’s assistance of course. He always asked questions like that. If you had eaten or drank any water. Said you would need to keep prepared in case you went into labor. Said you would need to keep as much of your energy as you could. Not even ten minutes later, the two of you sat next to one another, eating quickly slapped together sandwiches while you sunk into the couch in the living room.

Music continued to pour through the open windows, yet it sounded like your neighbor had given up on practicing for the time being. Time moved at a snail’s pace ever since you went on leave, and the music only seemed to exacerbate that. You lived in a limbo — a place frozen in time where the only thing you seemed to do was prepare for something that felt like would never come.

Once you finished eating, you leaned back into the couch with a heavy sigh. Every atom that made up your body buzzed with restlessness. Your feet began to tap against the floor, knees shaking with the force, and your gaze turned to the window. Fat clouds hung in the sky, but it didn’t smell like rain. If anything, you could nearly make out the scent of the tulips your next door neighbor had growing on her balcony.

Simon reached over and snatched your plate from your lap, drawing your attention back over to him. He looked at you with a raised brow as he caught sight of your bouncing legs, and you quickly ceased your movement with a huff. Chuckling, he stood up from his spot before wandering off into the kitchen to take care of the mess, and you groaned as you looked up at the ceiling.

“I’m going crazy,” you whined.

“That’s what relaxin’ is, sweetheart,” Simon quipped.

“It’s bullshit is what it is,” you countered. “Sitting around, just waiting for this kid to come like we’ve got some welcoming party set up. I wanna… do something.”

Simon paused as he came back into the living room, shoulder leaning against the doorway. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“What, like I’m a dog?” you teased.

He shrugged. “Your words, not mine.”

A heavy sigh passed your lips as you rolled your head to the side. You hated the stares. You hated the comments and the lingering eyes and the quiet cooing you received while out in public. More often than not you were looked at like a walking enigma rather than a human being. Rather than a mother. Is that what it meant to become a mom? You’d just turn into some spectacle? Is that all you had ever been from the start?

“Sure,” you finally responded, “could walk around the park or something.”

That was that. The lift made heading to the bottom floor an easy feat, and once you were settled in the passenger's seat of Simon's car, the two of you were headed off to the nearest park. A gentle breeze toyed with the clouds in the sky and the budding leaves on the trees, and its aroma was intoxicating. Usually there was more rain in the spring time, but you were glad that you had been spared from it that day.

You weren’t the only people who figured it was a good day to go for a walk. Plenty of other citizens filled the park as children bounced around on playground sets and adults settled down for impromptu picnics. Their laughter filled the air with ease, and its sound felt warm on your ears. It wouldn’t be much longer until you heard that sound more often. Or, at least you hoped you did. You were sure there would be plenty of screaming well beforehand.

Simon helped you out of the car, face still shrouded with his mask, and the two of you quickly set off on the paved path that weaved throughout the grass and trees. Shadows dotted the land around you as thick clouds traversed far overhead, yet for the most part the sun warmed your skin as you walked. It was awkward walking and carrying around so much extra weight, yet you had gotten fairly good at pushing through despite it. With Simon’s hand in yours, you hardly thought too much about the weight anyways as you were more concerned with the feeling of his skin against yours.

“So,” you spoke up once the two of you had walked a fair ways down the path, “the mask. Still plan on wearing it once you’re officially done with work?”

“Maybe,” he pondered.

“Seriously?”

He shrugged. “It’s so ingrained with me that the tyke’ll probably come out wearin’ one.”

Your chuckle shook your body so much you felt your son protest inside of you with a swift fit of kicks. He had grown less active as of late, but as far as you knew, that was pretty normal. Still, you wish he had picked up energy a bit more. By the sounds of it, if he didn’t arrive by next week, your doctor planned on inducing you, which was a whole nightmare on its own.

“As long as he’s got a better sense of humor than you, I think we’ll manage,” you teased.

“My sense of humor is fine.”

“Uh huh.”

A fit of giggles snagged your attention as a small group of kids swerved around you and Simon. A bright yellow football spun out in front of the two of you as they kicked it among themselves, making sure to use a flourish of kicks to show off. It seemed as if their game had gone out of bounds, and they elbowed one another as they fought to get it back towards the field. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them and their stubby legs kicking the ball as they ran as hard as they could.

It was strange to think you’d have to care for someone like that. Sure, your son would start off small, but everyone always said they grew up fast. It was times like that when things seemed to move faster than normal. Everything always seemed like it stood still until you turned around and saw how far you had come, yet something about that moment made things feel like the opposite. Everything else passed by you so quickly, and you were stuck with your feet in the ground.

Fucking pregnancy hormones.

Before you could get lost any further in your mind, you gave Simon’s hand a full squeeze, as if demanding his attention. He hummed in response, eyes carefully flickering to you before landing back on the path before you.

“We still have to decide on a name,” you reminded him.

“If we had it Johnny’s way, we’d name it after him,” Simon humored.

A smile pulled at your lips as you remembered his comments. You’re naming him after Uncle Johnny, aye?

“I’m not naming our son John. That’s such an old man's name,” you countered. “I’m pretty sure anyone with that name isn’t ever born. They just sorta sprout into existence as a full grown man.”

“We could always name him Arlo,” Simon said, the grin evident in his voice.

“You’re a fucking dick for that one,” you hissed quietly enough that the kids around you couldn’t hear.

Simon’s grin erupted into a chuckle, and you bathed in the way the warm vibration of it washed over you. Simon always felt like home to you. Patched up and barely holding together by the seams at first, yet his foundation was the only one you had come across that wasn’t cold and dead. His laughter always reminded you of that — that you were safe and warm with him — even though he tried to hold it back more often than not.

“We’ll figure it out eventually I suppose,” you sighed.

Even with the steady breeze, the heat of the sun ate away at your skin like a beast. While it felt nice at first, being out in nature and airing yourself out, you could feel your skin perspire uncomfortably, forcing your clothes to stick to your body like a cage. You wiggled your hand out of Simon’s grasp as you wiped your sticky hand on your pants. Being sweaty was always uncomfortable, but it was twice as irritating when you were so far along.

“Wanna take a breather?” Simon prompted.

You looked up at him with narrow eyes. How he managed through the thick heat in that dark mask of his was beyond you, and in some sort of way you were a little jealous. Though, you supposed he had earned that right. You were sure he had gone through environments much warmer than London with clothes significantly thicker than his civvies.

“Sure,” you said eventually, giving in.

A few paces ahead sat an unsuspecting bench. It was one of the annoying metal ones that had no curve for comfort, yet you knew Simon was right. A breather would do you some good, and you shouldn’t push yourself anyway. The moment you lowered yourself onto the bench, you leaned all your weight back with a sigh. However, Simon stayed standing, despite the fact there was plenty of room for him to sit with you.

“I’ve got some water in the car, if you need it,” he offered.

“Might be a good idea,” you nodded.

Simon paused as he glanced around as if assessing the area for threats. You weren’t quite sure what threats there were to be found in London, but you were certain you would have been fine in a park in broad daylight. Simon seemed to come to that same conclusion, and he quickly waved a finger at you as he took a step back.

“Stay put.”

After giving him a half-assed fake salute, you watched as he strolled back down the pavement towards the car until he was well out of view. Another sigh left your throat as you allowed your eyes to rest and soak in what little nature surrounded you. Birds sang to one another in the trees, but the crashing harmony of the seagull’s call created an aura of dissonance. It was some sort of external struggle you weren’t allowed to be a part of.

At that moment, everything happened at once. The cars driving along the street. Children screaming and giggling. Clouds rolling overhead without a care in the world. A bee flying towards a dandelion. You could smell the sunshine warm the earth with an enticing aroma. Everything existed all at once, all together, with you right in the middle of it. It was perfect. Everything humming in tune with one another. Weaving together to hold you tight.

It stopped when you smelled the smoke.

That nauseating aroma was strong enough to nearly make you hurl right there in the center of the park, yet you managed to hold it together. It took a sharp breath and a thick swallow to do it, but you refused to embarrass yourself that way. You hated being vulnerable in front of others. As your eyes flickered back open you could make out the faint sound of rustling grass. It was leisurely. Soft. Like someone couldn’t bother to pick their feet up fully as they walked.

Your mistake was simple. You looked up. You looked up and you locked eyes with the man who walked by, and you swore that in that moment you would fall apart. And you wanted to. Wanted to crumble into dust so that he would never lay eyes on you again. Yet you were forced to witness the way his lips curled into a smile around his cigarette as if he had any right to be friendly towards you, and you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream further still as he changed course and made a beeline straight to you.

“Holy shit,” he muttered.

You hated his voice. Hated the way words rolled off of his tongue. You wished his tongue would turn to stone, or worse, so that he would never have to poison anyone with his words ever again. His chuckle came as a terrible scratch against your eardrums, and you tried your best not to grimace, but you couldn’t even do that much.

He exhaled his last lungful of smoke before he took the butt out of his mouth and tossed it onto the pavement. The sole of his boot crushed it like it was nothing but a bug underneath his weight, and while you could hear its contents smearing on the ground, you still couldn’t look away from his face. A desert-like dryness plagued your mouth, and you tried your hardest to get your tongue to move, but every time you swallowed it felt like pins were stuck in your throat.

Years. So many years and still, you were nothing but a scared little girl.

“What?” he questioned facetiously. “You’re not gonna say hi to your dad?”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soft spot #f!reader

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months

Text

might be running a little late on the spiderverse post (and by little i mean it’ll prolly be posted this weekend instead when all of us are free) cause i got assigned a task for skewl last minute 😭😭😭😭 so ill just give you guys this short fic/drabble w/ Cat Villain Reader for now that has been rotting in drafts for a bit.

please read my previous cat villain posts for more context !!

If you were to give a rank of the most punchable face in the Batfam, it’d be Damian. No surprise there in hindsight, but the fact that he managed to beat his own dad — the one that left your one true love to die — still astounded you.

Despite his reputation and the fact above, Damian had more calm moments with you than any of his predecessors. It may have been due to other factors; you being older and more mature (less of a brat), that you didn’t hate his guts, or that he wasn’t a masochist like Tim.

But the biggest reason was Talia.

You don’t get how the woman fell for Bruce but she did, and you knew she would do anything for him. You’ve fought her before and she was no joke.

And, she was the only person who helped you with Jason. Who didn’t scoff at your violent reaction towards his death. Who actually understood you, rather than ply you with words of comfort.

So, of course, you were a lot more gentle when it came to her son. Even during his more verbally abusive phase.

Recently however, you’ve noticed a change.

“What?” Damian glared at you (I say as if he looks at you in any other way other than glaring)

“Nothing.” You looked away, your mouth forming a pout. Damn him for having great observational skills even through both of your masks and while you guys were in the middle of a fight.

“Were you just staring at my arms?”

“No!” You shouted in offence. “. . . Yes.”

But how dare of him to be right anyways! It wasn’t your fault his new fit looked tighter on his toned biceps.

In any case, that’s where the change really started to be obvious. Usually after that he’d knock you out or screech curses, but now… now he’d —

“Keep looking. You’re easier to catch when distracted.”

You immediately felt your knees go weak.

The nicknames, too. Good god the nicknames. Some of them were still as degrading as ever, but you also noticed a sudden rise of sweeter ones, some in his mother tongue, others just plain corny.

“Hey Kitty, get your food elsewhere.” Damian greeted you from behind.

Damian never greeted you.

Your fights and/or meet-ups always started with a little roughhousing.

Which, as of the moment, was not happening just yet. Not to mention he didn’t even take advantage of your surprised state.

And so you turn invisible.

Ever the sharp eyed man that he was, he quickly spotted you from the sound of your movements. Yet he doesn’t attack. In the blink of an eye, he appeared right behind you, seizing your arms and whispered, “Did that make you purr?”

You licked him in response. Safe to say that you were smacked down afterwards.

You were starting to think that Damian liked you.

Of course, even though you were confident to a fault, you weren’t conceited. So in order to test that theory, you managed to switch your heists up for when he wasn’t on duty.

And from what you hear from Tim, he hasn’t been doing so great.

So terrible his days have been in fact that he had been sloppy enough to get caught. While the rest of his team was busy fighting you took the opportunity to sneak in. A favour for Talia’s help, you thought.

“Fool! What are you—“ Damian shouted at you. The villain they were fighting was no joke. If you had gotten caught —

His sermon gets interrupted by a kiss from you to the lips. You even shove your tongue down his throat for good measure.

You separate from him after a few minutes.

You think from the fact that he pulls you back in and kisses you as his friends were screaming in the background made it clear that he more than just liked you.

Maybe even loved you…

— to be continued

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere core #yandere batfam #yandere damian wayne #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #robin #robin x you #batfam #dc #yandere batfam x reader #batfam x reader #dc x reader

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simpinformonkies · 10 months

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Can I request a Redson x Calm!S/O reader, who's his partner in crime and a powerful earthbender (cause they keep him grounded) please and thanks.

Sorry this made me laugh so hard when I first saw this ask, the joke broke my sense of humor im so sorry. Anyway, here ya go!~

~~~

RED SON

-The first time he met you all those years ago, he thought you were just some weakling human that decided to piss him off, but you just raised a brow at his behavior and slammed your heel on the dirt, slamming a pillar of stone and dirt into his gut and sending the Demon Bull Prince flying off.

-Oh, he was furious at the audacity.

-But just as much, Red Son was interested; humans don't just control an element as well as you do. It was like the earth itself was your sandbox that you did whatever you wanted with; be that helping people, growing plants, or destroying his Bull Clones.

-After a while though, people just kept demanding things of you, and you just... kind of got tired of it. So what'd you do?

-Why, go to Red Son and ask for a partnership of course!

-Why? You have no idea; you just hated being demanded things of by people that don't even respect you.

-Red Son at least respected your power, even if he also hated you.

-Baby steps people, baby steps.

-So you commit crimes with Red Son, being like that silent soldier in the background that the heroes never notice until its too late and you're already attacking them. You always had Red Son's back, and stopped the worst of his injuries from happening.

-Especially from MK. Sweet kid, but a little much sometimes.

-Ya know that meme of 'the demon lord having a sweet tiny spouse, but the spouse being scarier'? Yeah, you're much scarier than Red Son is, because while he's always angry and yelling, you're sweet and kind that can flip on a dime if the right buttons are pressed.

-Anyway, you're Red Son's "rock" essentially, being there for him through thick and thin. This means you're very close to him and following him every day (or, alternatively, he's always following you, even around the council but acting like he's the one guiding you. His mother thinks its adorable.)

-After confessing to each other (in which Red Son acted like a total tsundere the entire time, let's be honest), you constantly do little stuff with your earthbending to show how much you love that. Whether that be making statue of a heart on 'fire', or doing little stuff to make him happy or his workload easier.

-Housespouse™

-Red Son often gives you gifts that mainly consist of gems (as a homage to your element of earth) and always does romantic things with you while attempting to act nonchalant or cool.

-Keyword being attempting.

~~~ BONUS:

-Your 'scary' side came out when Azure and his goons attacked the Demon Bull Family, attempting to seal away the others. You send shards of earth flying at Peng, aiming for his wings (and hitting them in quick succession) before earthbending binds and pillars at Azure in hopes of defeating him.

-Unfortunately, you forgot Yellow Tusk exists, and he bound you with magic, and then you were sealed in the scroll of memory.

-(And if that happened to make Red Son so angry that his flames sparked a brilliant blue, then only he and the brotherhood would know such secrets.)

~~~

Hope you enjoyed this!~

#lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #nilo dabbles #writing prompt #writing requests #red son x reader #Nilo art

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

Sunlight

Part six of the Sassy series

Simon Riley/female reader 3.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI (no smut but this fic has mature themes), mentions of violence, blood/injury and bombs, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, PTSD, dissociation, fluff, little bit of angst, comfort, caretaking. Simon was due home four days ago.

The clock reads two in the morning. Your tea sits cold on the coffee table, television droning on mindlessly in the background at a low volume, so it doesn’t wake Theo. You’ve given up the incessant pacing for laying on the couch, the cushions sagging in the middle where Simon usually sits, the creak in the armrest on his side a surprisingly comforting sound compared to the repetitive tick of the clock's second hand.

His bag waits by the door. Theo sleeps in the wrap that has him tied to your chest, his face squished against your skin, long lashes laying flush against his cheeks.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” you whisper, notching your fingers into the crook of Simon’s elbow. You apply soft pressure, just enough to draw him closer to you, until he’s standing with an arm around your back, leaning down to nuzzle Theo.

“I’m sure, Sass.” You swallow a rebuttal, the anxiety of him leaving for an op crawling up your throat, threatening to spill out in the form of unnecessary pleas for assurances that he’ll be coming back.

Promises that he’ll be coming home.

Promises that he’ll never be able to make.

He pulls away with a sigh, cradling your face and tilting your chin upwards, before sealing his lips over yours, parting your mouth with his tongue and tasting you.

“Only a few weeks, yeah?” his thumb strokes along your cheekbone while he presses a whisper soft kiss to the top of the baby’s head. You nod.

“Only a few weeks.”

“Where are you, Si.” It’s the fourth night of this, the waiting. The overdue arrival bears down on you, reducing you to a nervous mess, something you’ve never been before Theo, before him.

You used to sit still, sit silent.

Now, you’re pacing holes into the floor of your house, waiting for the missing piece of your family to come home, four days overdue.

Four days overdue. The first night you tried not to let it eat at you. Things happen. Combat engagement, recon, overwatch, anything could take longer than initially planned or expected. The second night, your rational thought started to slip. Worst case scenarios started to play out in your mind, the stress of not knowing what’s going on keeping you awake, keeping you on edge. You’d cuddle Theo for hours, nose pressed to the crown of his head, hand softly patting his back as you rocked him, trying not to watch your phone as you waited for the text from the restricted number. By the third night, you were dread spiraling. Who would make the call? Would it be Price, knocking on your door with regret in his eyes, carrying the news that your son’s father, your partner, is dead? Would it be Kyle? Or Johnny? Fear spread through you like a virus. He can’t be gone. He can’t. He promised.

Tonight, you were uncertain. It would take a lot to kill Simon Riley, would take even more to kill Ghost. But what if he’s been taken again? What if he’s being tortured? Or worse. What if he needs you? Your stomach flips violently as you freefall through all the possibilities.

“Where are you?”

“Yeah Johnny, I’ll tell him. Be safe.” You hang up the phone and look at Simon out of the corner of your eye.

“Simon… why didn’t you tell me you took indefinite leave?”

“I told ya I took leave.”

“You didn’t want to mention that it’s indefinite? That you didn’t give him a return date?”

“Didn’t know when it’d be. Didn’t want to commit to anything.” You roll over slowly to where he’s lying on his back, propped up slightly with a pillow. Fingers drag under his sweatshirt and up his stomach, until your palm lays flat over his heart.

“Are you planning on going back? To the 141?”

“When he really needs me, he’ll call. ‘Til then, I want to be here. With you.” His fingertips stroke slowly over where your belly is covered by the blanket, until he’s moving it aside and the heat of his skin is against yours.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake. You sit up, blanket pooling around your lap, blindly groping for your phone when the mass of a shadow shifts just at the very edge of your line of sight. Almost like it’s not there at all.

It takes you three, maybe four, seconds before you rationalize everything. Your eyes adjust, and you can make out the lines of his body, the extremely dim light from the hallway illuminating the balaclava, the way his shoulders are hunched forward, hands curled atop his knees.

“Simon?” your throat scratches. He doesn’t respond. You stretch to the side, pulling the chain on the end table lamp, and the light dances across his face. You blink in surprise.

He’s still wearing the paint.

“Ghost.” The call sign comes out more like a command, but calm, and his muscles tense under his clothes, fingers digging into his legs. You reach for his hand, keeping your touch as light as possible.

“Don’t.” he snaps, jerking backwards. You can hear the harsh line of his breathing, the tense crackle between his lungs.

“Okay.” Your mind is cycling, your own memories gnawing at you until you refocus, and then your phone vibrates in the spot where it’s fallen between the couch cushions. He lurches. “It’s just my phone.” You keep your voice soft, nearly as gentle as when you sing to Theo. A beat passes, and then he nods. You breathe a very small sigh of relief. He’s in there. “Do you want to take the balaclava off?” you coax, and he grunts out the first words you’ve heard him say in weeks.

“The paint.”

“We can take that off too.” His eyes flick up towards yours, and you see him, Simon, for only a second before he’s shuttered again. “Will you come with me?” He doesn’t answer. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. “Okay. Wait here.” You instruct, pushing a little more authority behind your voice, and step away slowly.

After you dart to your room to grab some sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, both Simon sized, you plug the sink in the kitchen. This will be easier than trying to get him up the stairs. Your first step is to get the balaclava off, and then the paint, if he’ll let you touch his face. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to get him out of his clothes and into the clean ones.

You’ve seen this before. Not often, not enough that it’s comfortable, but enough that you know more or less what to do, so when you duck back into the living room and see he hasn’t moved, you square your shoulders.

“I’m going to bring you into the kitchen. You’re going to take my hand and follow my lead.”

“On you.” He rasps, and tears smart at the corners of your eyes.

“On me. I’ve got you.”

“We’re moving on second location. Sassy, what’s your status?”

“I’ve found the bombs.” You don’t elaborate, too busy studying the heap of melted plastic. You think it’s Semtex, or some form of it, but can’t be sure. It barely has the odor, the one you can usually smell nearly half a mile away, and the rubber casing is green, not red. “Captain, I’ve got a situation. Gonna need more time, over.”

“Copy. We’ll give you all we can.” You pull the gun from your shoulder and put it on a table before crouching before the greenish blob. There’s a small cut in the casement, and you lift it with slow fingers to reveal a square piece of metal, blinking with a red light. Detonation.

“Nice and easy,” You mutter, disconnecting it from its power supply and watch with satisfaction when the light dies. “No explosions here today, folks. All-“ There’s a click, and a hiss, and then yellow fog explodes directly into your face. “What the fuck.” You choke, hands shooting forward. Your eyes begin to burn, and you frantically try to pat away whatever it is with your sleeves.

You blink a few times and try to focus, pushing past the stinging sensation and the tears that are dripping down your cheeks. Your body felt fine, you weren’t experiencing any major pain that could be associated with injury, and you still had feeling in all extremities. You could hear the rumble of the HVAC system in the building, and the echo of shots coming from both inside and outside, but your vision was still dark. Black, like someone had flicked the lights off.

A blackout. It was like you were in a noxious, corrosive blackout.

Your mind starting turning. Not good, this was not good. This was worse than not good. You were physically blinded. Alone, in hostile territory with no way to navigate an escape route.

A sitting duck. Ripe for the picking.

“Captain-“ your finger releases the button and you take a shaky breath. “Price. I need extraction. I’ve been hit with something. A chemical. It’s critical. I won’t make rendezvous on my own.”

“Stay your position, Sassy.” The answer is immediate, and you breathe a very small sigh of relief.

“Copy.” You hold your hands out in front of you, one high, one low, and walk slowly in what you think is the direction of your gun. One step, two step. Right, left. Your fingers slide along the edge of the table, moving across the top until you feel the cool metal of your weapon and take it into your hands. You try to remember the layout of the room, where the door was, how many tables and chairs, but your panic is starting to bear down on you, and your thoughts are growing more erratic, clouded with fear.

The sound of metal on metal, the door banging open into the wall, startles you.

You swing, unsure where it is you’re even looking or even pointing.

“Sass! Lower your weapon.” A voice barks. His voice.

“Ghost.” You croak. The word sounds broken.

“Bloody hell. What’re you doing?” You can barely hear his footsteps, but his voice is moving closer. Damn stealth operators and their light feet.

“I can’t see you.” you try to explain, try to make it make sense but even saying the words seem ludicrous. “I can’t see anything. The… the Semtex, it gassed me, or something.”

“Let me see.” Big, gloved fingers hold your face, turning it from side to side. “Can’t see at all?”

“Nothing.” You gulp. “I’ve never… I’ve never had this happen, it was a chemical, I don’t know what-“ Blind. Poisoned. It could be permanent. The air in the room suddenly feels thin, and then the gun is being pulled from your grip.

“Simon.” You say his name with a gasp for the first time since Belize and he draws a sharp breath. Your own is coming in frantic gasps, the taste of panic souring on your tongue, compressing your spine until it hurts. Blind. You’ve been blinded.

“Sass, hey. Sass! Listen to me.” The only thing you can hear is your harsh panting. Blind. Poison. Blind. Poison. “I’m right here with you. I’m going to get you out.”

“You’re g-going to get me out.”

“That’s right.” He pauses, and you hear fidgeting, the clink of metal and rustling of something you can’t place. “I’ve got you, Sass.” You sink into the grit and grain of his voice, settling your wildly thumping heart, and a rough, calloused hand takes yours, thumb stroking over your knuckles. “I’m going to take lead. You’re gonna hold onto my vest and stay right on my heel, yeah?”

“O-okay… Hostiles?”

“Negative. All clear.” He guides you to a strap at his side, and you grip as tight as you can. You hear him shifting and then the comm clicks. “Price. I found Sass. Making our way to exfil now. Out here.” Another pause. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” A hand squeezes where you’re latched onto him, and you nod, even though you don’t have a clue if he’s looking at you or not.

“On me. I’ve got you.”

“On you.”

He sits stiffly in the kitchen chair that you’ve dragged over to the sink.

“I’m going to take the balaclava off.” He nods once, in acknowledgement, and your fingers find the edge of the fabric. It’s hard, crusted with something, blood, you assume, and you roll it upwards, careful not to make any sudden movements. When he doesn’t jerk away, you give him an encouraging smile, pulling it up past his mouth, and then over his head as gently as you can. “That’s good, Simon. You’re okay.” You tell him, and the corners of his eyes soften a fraction. You dip the washcloth into the sink, below the surface of the lukewarm, soapy water, before squeezing it out. “I’m going to try to get some of the paint off now.” You narrate every step, grounding him, guiding him through your actions so that he knows what’s coming, so he can prepare in all states of his mind. “You’re doing really well, Si. Really good.” You soothe, pressing the cloth gently to his skin, dabbing the paint away slowly and timing the pace of his breathing in your head.

“Have you seen LT?” Soap slings an arm your neck, pulling you in for a half hug, and you try to push him off. He’s still sweaty and gross, and a little bit bloody, while you’re freshly showered and bandaged. Why he waits so long to get cleaned up, you’ll never know.

“Nah, haven’t. Did you check his room?”

“Thought you might want to.” He raises an eyebrow and you cut him a glare. He’s been onto the two of you since the 141 left Belize two weeks ago, and he’s smug about it.

“Shut up, Soap.” You silence him, but unease gnaws at you like it’s burning a pit in your stomach. Where is he? “If I see him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.” You assure the sergeant before he gives you a mock salute and takes off.

He isn’t in his room after all, he’s in yours. Still in full tac gear, hard mask on over the balaclava, he sits like a stone on the edge of your bed.

“Hey, Johnny was looking for you.” you say, kicking your shoes off. Your muscles scream when you bend to pick them up, your body sore from a forty-three-hour op that felt like it was never going to end. “Hello?” you push when he doesn’t answer you, turning to study him. His muscles are coiled, everything so tight that he looks like he’s a second from breaking apart, and he has his eyes trained on the wall, on the blank space between the closet and the bathroom. What is happening?

“Simon?” you hedge, but he just stays shock still. “Hey…” you step a little closer, leaning down to get into his line of sight. He doesn’t even blink. “Ghost?” you try, and it ripples through him like a wave, his jaw shifting, molars grinding against one another slowly. Okay, you breathe deeply. Okay. Should you go get Johnny? You look at him again. Yeah. Johnny will know, Johnny will be able to-

“Sass.” His voice sounds different. It’s still the same, deep gravel that you dream about, but something about it is lighter. Unsure. “I… can’t get the paint off.” You frown and try to cover your confusion. The paint? He’s still in his combat gear. You study him again. His body is still frozen, like he’s stuck, and you chew on a lip. Something is very not right here.

“Okay. Let’s take care of that then.” You keep your voice even and smooth, moving slowly. He closes his eyes when your fingers brush against the sleeve of his shirt. “I’ve got you.” you whisper, arm snaking around his back to unbuckle the pulley strap on his vest. He nods, nearly imperceivable to a civilian, but to you, someone who knows, who understands that every muscle, every fidget is accounted for in combat, it’s enough. After you get the vest free, you skate along the hem of his shirt to where the balaclava lays, and then up to the edge of the mask. “I’m going to take the mask off.” You release the clip that holds it in place, and let it fall into your waiting hand, revealing the black paint spread around his eyes and across his nose. He blinks, a harsh breath coming from his now shaking body and you still, fingers hovering in his line of sight. “It’s alright.” You voice wavers but you shove it down, adopting a firmer tone, something more commanding. “Let’s get the balaclava off, yeah?” His hands flex on your mattress, and you glance over the sight of the blood crusted in the creases of his knuckles. “I’m still right here. With you.” you remind him, pulling it up his face and then over in one movement, not eager to draw it out. The tendons in his forearms pulse, but he doesn’t move. “I’m going to go get a… cloth. Or something. For the paint. Okay? Everything’s… gonna be okay.” He gives you another miniscule nod, and his eyes flicker to yours for a brief second before returning to the spot on the wall.

“I’m right here, I’ve got you.” You smile, and he starts to relax more, the harsh lines at the corners of lips easing.

“The sunlight.” He says, and you glance at the window where the first rays of morning are peeking through the pane.

“Yeah, must be close to dawn.” You can feel his muscles turning soft underneath your hands, his shoulders gradually sinking lower and lower, the tension in his face melting away with every second.

Theo cries from his room.

Simon’s eyes flash, and his hand darts forward to wrap around your wrist, thumb pressing to where your pulse beats.

“It’s just Theo.” At the sound of the baby’s name, his stress decreases, but he doesn’t release you. You reach for your back pocket, where your phone is, thumbing the screen open to your photos, scrolling through the favorites until you find the dimly lit picture that the nurse snapped for you the night Theo was born. You turn it towards him, and his brows crease slightly, realization, recognition working its way through his mind. “It’s my favorite.” You insist, pressing the phone into his palm, while pulling free from his grasp. You watch his pupils contract and dilate, his lips parting when he sees himself, stiffly holding his newborn like Theo is actually a bomb. “I think we got all the paint.” He makes a noise in his throat, thumb swiping to another picture. It’s one from when Theo was three months old, and Simon is shirtless, asleep on his back in the bed, one arm propped behind his head. Theo is also asleep, snuggled in the crook of his dad’s arm, empty bottle discarded on the pillow. Your face is in it, tired eyes lit with mirth where you positioned yourself in the frame of the selfie, little grin tugging your mouth to the side.

“Yeah.” He’s still staring at the picture.

“Can you get undressed so I can wash those?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you into him, pressing your palm to his lips and closing his eyes. You count to five, taking long deep breaths in sync with his, before you point to the clothes on the table. “Get changed. I’m going to go get Theo, okay?” You try another question, hoping you’ll be able to switch out commands and to your relief, he clears his throat and gives you another ‘yeah’ before you step away. He reaches for you one more time, face fixed towards the sunlight before turning his gaze back up into yours.

“I love you.” His voice breaks. Your eyes start to burn with tears again.

“I love you too, Si.”

#sassy series #simon riley x reader #simon x sass #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mwii #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #peaches writes

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cienie-isengardu · 24 days

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Sokka's sexism

Sokka’s sexism from the earliest episodes is an interesting case, because the Southern Water Tribe, at least from what was presented to us on screen, doesn’t seem to operate that much on gender roles? Especially when compared to the Northern Water Tribe?

I mean, yeah, warriors (men) went to war, while women, children and the elders stayed at home. But as Hama’s story shows, when Fire Nation attacked Southern Water Tribe, both female and male benders were fighting against invaders arm to arm and it seems like they were the actual first line of defense there, not the non-bender warriors.

In contrast, during siege of North Pole, in the final of Book 1: Water, we don’t see any female bender helping defend their home except Katara, who was involved in protecting Aang when he was in Spirit World.

Since all the waterbenders were captured from the Southern Tribe, it makes sense that non-bender warriors stepped in and got involved with war, while the kids and elders were left under women’s care.

Another example comes from “a ceremonial test of wisdom, bravery and trust”, known as ice dodging. As Bato explained, it is a rite of passage for young Water Tribe members and in their village “done by weaving a boat through a field of icebergs.” When a child turns 14, their father was supposed to take them to ice dodging, so they could earn their mark. Though the episode itself was focused on Sokka’s ceremony, Bato never specified it as something that boys alone should do and not only Katara (girl) but also Aang (outsider) is allowed to take part in the ritual. Once Sokka proved himself, everyone of their group got a mark, as a sign they passed the test. Interesting thing to note, since Bato did not specify it is a rite of passage for boys alone, it suggests girls were expected to know how to sail in boats of the Southern Water Tribe. Of course, again, war didn’t allow to continue this tradition as men (Hakoda, in case of Sokka & Katara) left to fight against Fire Nation.

Later, when Sokka and Katara reunited with their father, Hakoda did not try to send away Katara nor relegate her to just a medic job during the invasion. In Northern Water Tribe episodes, we learned that teaching for waterbenders there was defined by gender - women were allowed to learn only how to heal, while men how to use their bending in fight. Hakoda, nor Bato nor other of their warriors even for a moment questioned Katara’s presence on the battlefield nor the presence of women in the ranks of their allies like a blind, 12 years old Toph or the female water benders from Swamps or female(?) soldier from Earth Kingdom

And during battle, Katara did not fight in rank with other soldiers, she first alone secured Appa during submarine attack, then alongside her brother and father took down guardhouses - Hakoda himself told her and Sokka to attack one when he took down the other one

showing how much he trusted his 15 years old son and 14 years old daughter while ordering them attack on Fire Nation adult soldiers hidden in well guarder place.

Later, when Hakoda got seriously injured and Sokka temporary took the command of their forces, we could see that Hakoda relied on Katara to follow his troops and not ever once tried to send her back “to safety” or argued she should leave him behind, as often it happens with heroic (male) figures. Quite the opposite. When Katara offered him to “wait here if you want”, Hakoda firmly said “I want to press forward with the others”, which meant his daughter needed to come with him directly into an already ongoing fight (even if they stayed more at the rear of their army, they were still on battlefield).

She and her brother, alongside with the youngest members of Invasion, were forced to flee on Appa once the battle was lost, but no other adult woman was included. During Zuko’s coronation, when all war prisoners were released, in the background we could again see the female character(s) from Swamps.

And let's not forget how impressive Hakoda was by Suki when she single-handedly captured the warden at Boiling Rock prison and did not try to stop her from fighting against Ty Lee alongside Zuko and Sokka against Azula.

Understandably, we have no idea how the Southern Water Tribe and its culture looked like before the war, even arguably, the characters themselves may not have a clear idea due to growing up in dire times. But my point is, Hakoda and Bato, the two main adult Southern Water Tribe’s warriors that Avatar: The Last Airbender allowed us to know more about, have never shown any direct sexism toward Katara or other female characters. And though Sokka was the oldest boy at their village, there is no reason to think women did not hunt in absence of men, because one person would not be able to provide for a whole community 24/7. Also, as Hama proved, the Southern Water Tribe’s waterbenders were capable of fighting and their gender did not play any vital role the way it happened in their sister tribe at North Pole.

Of course, Fire Nation’s repeated attacks affected residents of South Pole and their living conditions but from the little bits the show gave us, I think it is correct to assume if Sokka grew up with Hakoda around to guide him as he should, his behavior would be different from the sexism and dismissive attitude toward Katara or Kyoshi Warriors. For one, logically thinking Southern Water Tribe’s warriors need to do all the cooking, sewing and keeping their camp clean all on their own during war so it is not a “girly job” but a vital part of a warriors skills to survive and ensure their equipment is in the best condition. But Sokka doesn’t know it, because there is no one to teach him the importance of those skills. All Sokka had was father’s farewell words to cling to - and I’m not sure if Hakoda truly expected his son to be able to protect Katara and the village in his absence, or he just tried to make Sokka feel a bit less depressed about being left behind. You know, by giving him purpose and a Big Important Job to focus on and to feel needed and trusted.

Which leads me to think that Sokka’s sexism is not rooted in Southern Water Tribe’s culture itself, but in his own insecurity and pressure of being the oldest boy in the village. If girls could be warriors - and be better than him - it would put into question all his self-worth, purpose and the trust given by father. Once Sokka met Kyoshi Warriors and later all the skilled girls, it challenged him on a very personal level, but he accepted the truth and moved on and alongside, finally became a true warrior and a man.

And I find it indeed an interesting case, as Sokka’s sexism and dismissal of girls is not necessarily stemming from the culture he is part of, but rather is the effect of not knowing said culture & pre-war history of his Tribe. And of course, from his own insecurity.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #sokka #hakoda #just some thoughts #because bato and hakoda seems pretty okay toward katara and include her in rite of passage for sokka and invasion battle #like her age and gender doesn't matter #with dad and dad's friend (bato) like that where comes sokka's dismissal?#so i guess this is about sokka's insecurity and growing up without father to guide him #good suki straighten sokka up pretty quickly #i'm pretty sure SWT has some sense of gender roles but not so strict take like northern water tribe #no arranged marriages and no true aristocracy and waterbenders being fighters and so on #sokka though lives in destroyed by war tribe to understand yet what was done to his community i guess?

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lvrcpid · 1 year

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wind flower - avatar cast!

includes: gn!reader. fluff FLUFF FLUFF. use of y/n. this was on the forefront of my mind so it’s kinda half assed LMAO. the interview isn’t really in depth.

imagine being apart of the avatar cast and doing an interview with them!

background info!

you were a famous childhood actor. you’ve been obsessed with the idea of being on the big screen since you were 7. luckily enough your parents let you go through with it and you were a big hit! landing shows like greys anatomy, my babysitters a vampire and movies like adventures in babysitting and diary of a whimpy kid.

with age comes venturing out of certain genres. when you turned 18 you ventured into more mature shows and movies. you stared in shows like euphoria, grown-ish, bridgerton and now at 21, your first movie, avatar : the way of water.

when you got the call back for your audition you were bouncing practically through the roof. you loved avatar as a kid and wanted to become an avatar yourself. this was like a dream come true for you.

when you met the cast you were over the moon, they were all so sweet and welcoming. the energy while filming was one you could get used to, especially considering you had 3 more movies to film in the avatar universe.

when you guys wrapped up filming you were really sad but looked forward to the interviews you all could do together! your manager called you and told you that you all were to do an interview with buzzfeed. it wouldn’t be your first rodeo with them.

enough chitchat, let’s get into the interview!

“hi buzzfeed! we’re the cast of avatar: the way of water and we’re here today to answer some questions while playing with puppies!!” you spoke looking to the camera with a smile as you watched the puppies run over everyone’s legs.

(yes i did that buzzfeed interview type cause it’s SO CUTE)

after playing with the puppies for a second it was time for everyone to introduce themselves. you were last and gave a small smile as you waved to the camera “hi im (y/n)(l/n) and i play (c/n)” you said as you picked up a puppy and held it in your arms.

a few questions later and it got to you. you grabbed the piece of paper and read it out loud “who is your character and how would you describe them.” you looked over to bailey who busted out laughing as you did the same. “bailey is such a hater! that’s why i hope the dog pees on you!” you laughed and turned to the camera. “ well i play (c/n), he/she’s jake and neytiri’s oldest son/daughter about 2 years older than neteyam” you pointed to jamie “and how i would describe him/her-“ “sassy!” jack spoke up. “a raging ball of fire” trinity chimed in “i feel so attacked and im mad they’re right!” everyone busted out laughing.

after a few more answers the interview was coming to a close and the director at buzzfeed wanted everyone to give their opinion on the movie and what to look forward to.

“for me” you started “i would say the movie is really about family that’s the biggest component. it touches on a lot of familiar undertones that you really don’t see in a lot of movies like we get to see jake sully as a dad you know” you shifted in your seat before speaking again. “it’s a really good movie that james cameron worked really hard on as well as the cast and everyone behind the scenes and im really excited for everyone to watch it” you smiled as you grabbed another puppy.

“you guys want me to do it- okay fine- thank you to buzz feed! and thank you to these little adorable puppies who are available for adoption if you want a furry companion to watch the movie with. thank you guys again and make sure to go watch avatar: the way of water out in theaters now!! bye!!!” you snuggled the dog before smiling again. the interview coming to a close.

“just so you know. the dog did pee on me.” bailey pulled you to the side and you fell out DYING LAUGHING.

a.n // staring at my inbox while writing this. I PROMISE IM WRITING THEM GUYS im just proof reading a few rn and scheduling them to post okay bye love you mwah

#avatar #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #awotw #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #sully family x reader #tuk avatar #aonung x reader #jake sully #avatar cast

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besaya-glantaya · 7 months

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In an attempt to exorcise these thoughts from my brain (this movie has taken up residence in my soul), here is an incomplete list of the things I notice and love in Red White and Royal Blue.

1. Henry staring in utter disbelief at the frosting-covered whiskey tumbler Alex plops distractedly into his hand whilst pawing ineffectually at the mess all over Henry's shoulder. Comedy gold.

2. Nora pretending she doesn't know either of them and hiding her face as they scuffle in front the cake.

3. How Alex has Henry literally in his pocket while talking turkey.

4. During Henry's "what does it mean" crisis talk over The Kiss, the entire scene is dressed in bi flag colours. Nora is in pink, Alex in blue, with a purple poster in the background.

5. The soft "whoa" of the white house staffer, who walks into Nora's office just in time to hear her ask Alex: "How many guys have you been with?" She hesitates, stunned, and then looks as if she'd like the ground to open up and swallow her now, thank you very much.

6. His Royal Hardness making flustered small talk with the UK Prime Minister and the US President, while the FSOTUS goes in for a cheeky squeeze. You ridiculous, giddy, fools.

7. Ellen's exasperated "my son thinks he's a fucking comedian" look in reply to Alex's "The night is young, Ma" and his shit eating grin, before diplomatically, and very sensibly, removing the British PM from the vicinity of these two horny idiots.

8. Alex's warm and teasing delivery of "Are they known for their homosexual tendencies?" after Henry says he's "as gay as a maypole." Boy is smitten.

9. When Henry invites Alex to the charity polo match, his initial awkward nerves transition to fond derision when Alex's tells him, crestfallen, that he doesn't know how to play polo. Bless.

10. Henry on a horse. Very much in agreement with Alex on this one.

11. The interleaved editing of the polo match and tack room shenanigans. It reminds me strongly of the interlaced 'what if' scene in Steven Sodenburg's Out of Sight, which is executed at a far slower pace but delivers that same feel of two people being inexorably drawn to each other, almost as if events are fated to happen.

12. The lighting in the Paris cafe scene. God damn those are two beautiful men.

13. Henry's gleefuly bashful admission of innuendo in the Paris cafe. He's just given Alex his full Royal name, but its Henry Fox that's in control here and he's revelling in bringing every moment of his inner fantasies to life.

14. The heartbreaking disconnect between their two perspectives in the Paris walk scene.

That's some bullshit

It's my life

Doesn't mean you have to accept it

Alex has spent his life pushing defiantly against societal expectations. Henry has spent his life weighed down by them, isolated in a way that Alex only barely grasps.

15. I wish, with all my heart, that the fairytale political landscape of this movie was real.

16. The entirety of the morning after scene in the hotel room during the DNC is perfection and Zahra is the MVP. Matthew Lopez said he had no idea he was going to get that mini panic attack from Sarah Shahi and kudos to Sarah for that perfomance. Inspired.

17. How quickly and assertively Alex say "No" to Zarah's "would it make any difference if I told you not to see him again?"

18. The way Zarah says "Everytime I see you, it takes another year off my life." This phrase plays on loop in my brain during shitty work meetings.

19. The coming out scene with Alex and his Mom. A joyous balm for those of us who never got to experience that with our own parents.

20. Forehead touches. Ugh.

21. My brother in Christ, sharpen your knives Oscar, what did that pepper do to deserve that?

22. The catatonic state of sadness that Henry exists in after swimming away from Alex. My heart hurts.

23. The pride flags in the crowd outside Buckingham Palace. Again, can we all have this universe, pretty please?

24. The way Henry takes Alex's hand with such ease in public after the election win. If only Paris Henry could see you now.

[Exorcism sequel here]

#red white and royal blue #prince henry rwrb #rwrb film #rwrb thoughts #alex claremont diaz #rwrb #first prince #henry fox #red white and royal blue movie #myrwrbthoughts

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aloesarchives · 5 months

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A Love that Haunts Beyond the Grave (JJK One-shot)

Warnings: Fem reader, Death, Mention of Blood, Violence, Grief, Reader is highkey still in mourning, Megumi being confused 24/7, Angst with no happy ending at all, Shibuya Arc

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Word Count: 2.3k words

Summary: What happens when the person that is attacking your son is his father and the love of your life?

Pairing: Toji x Fem/Mom!Reader(Romantic), Megumi x Mom!Reader(Platonic/Parental)

Pronouns: She/Her (Reader is referred to as mom by Megumi)

AU: Slight Canon Divergence Timeline (Reader is a sorcerer and minor teacher at Jujutsu High. The reader is Megumi’s biological mom. Tsumiki is Reader and Toji’s biological daughter. One of the Reader’s Last Names is Fushiguro but also their last name, like (Y/N) (L/N) Fushiguro.)

(A/N: Sorry that this is shorter than my other JJK pieces. I am trying to do more writings that aren’t super long or drag on. Also, because my ADHD prescription has been backordered until the 20th, my updates will be very inconsistent. I apologize for the inconvenience and drop in quality of my upcoming works!)

[Semi Proofread and edited on 12/13/23 at 8:02pm!]

As always, Please Enjoy!

The curses just kept coming and coming, everything was in absolute chaos. Though you can pull your own, the amount of curse energy manifesting was something you haven’t felt since your younger years. What was happening in Shibuya was unlike any other mission or event you've been a part of. The closest that could come to this is when Suguru decided to invade and wage an attack on the very school he attended.

After getting separated from your son and his group, you desperately made it your mission to reunite and be there with him. You know your son is a very strong boy and can handle his own. With the guidance and training of Satoru, you could be sure he can be a sorcerer who stands up against those who oppose him. But this was different. Stronger curses, stronger and terrifying enemies you never had heard of, curse techniques and domain expansions beyond your understanding. This wasn’t anything a normal grade sorcerer would be up against, let alone be prepared for. With the news of Gojo Satoru being sealed reached your ears, you knew you were one of the few strong sorcerers left to be aiding in this dangerous conflict. Thus the desperation to find your son and keep him safe became unruly.

You zipped and flashed through the once lively city in search of any essence of your son. Scaling buildings, diving through empty windows of establishments frozen in time, racing on the concrete sidewalks with the only noise is your feet slamming against the pavement with the faint growls of grotesque curses echoing in the background. To your luck, or possibly your own fear, there were barely any curses in the streets to ambush you. While aimlessly running, your body suddenly immobilized itself at the sound of concrete breaking. You never had a super heightened sense, only through years of experiences and training. However, your body forced you to stay still as if it wanted you to hear what was happening. It would soon be in your favor as what followed was a small explosion with two people coming out of it. You recognized one of the silhouettes to be a young boy with blue spikey hair.

“Megumi?!”

You found your son but not in the way that you wanted. Like any good parent, you rushed to where you think Megumi landed. As you get closer, you hear glass shattering. Things crashing and being thrown around. Through a side street, you briefly saw Megumi being launched by a powerful force. You were, however, confused because you didn’t feel nor sense any curse energy. What the hell is Megumi fighting that’s bruly enough it doesn’t rely on curse energy? Making haste, you tried to figure out Megumi’s location but with him being thrown around, it was difficult to make a precise point of his location.

You kept following where Megumi was going despite not knowing the entity that was manhandling your son. T the crashes and the chaos grow louder, You cut through any small side streets and alleyways to get closer. Sweat was beading down, cascading down your face, and your limbs ached from the amount of energy you exerted onto them. But it didn’t matter, none of it mattered when your son was endangered and possibly killed because you were too late. Oh, how you begged your body to keep on going just to save your son. After taking all the twists and turns, you took a left turn and saw Megumi. He was out of breath but it seemed he was trying to hold himself against the juggernaut he was fighting. Sprinting in full action, you ran down the alley and reached the street where he was cornered. Even if you were out of breath, your body mustered enough air to call for your son’s name.

“MEGUMI!!!”

“Mom?!”

You reached your son and used your body as a shield between him and whoever he was fighting. You looked back for a bit, to see if he was severely injured. Besides the cut under his left eye and the drops of sweat on his forehead and cheeks, he looked somewhat okay. You honestly didn’t care if you died protecting your son. If Megumi lived, you would be satisfied. You felt your body become light as you took a stance against Megumi’s opponent. You didn’t feel Megumi grip the back of your shirt and pleading out your name. You didn’t understand what he meant until the figure on the other side propelled himself forward and tried to impale you on his weapon. You anticipated an object thrusted in you only to open your eyes to see the figure look at you with surprise. Though he jumped back to the other end of the street, you caught the small horizontal scar on the edge of the man’s lips. It was like life played a cruel joke on you as Deja vu graced your body in the worst way possible.

“You…(Y/N)?”

“T-Toji…?”

Megumi’s brain was frazzled but he still was able to pick up you saying something. And by the look of Megumi’s opponent, he stood there frozen too. Megumi looks back and forth trying to figure out how to know who he is fighting. Was this an enemy from your younger days as an active sorcerer that matched you and your abilities? Or was this someone that scarred you from an event that caused you to stand like a statue? He couldn’t tell but by your reaction of wide eyes and slight agape mouth, this guy wasn’t someone to simply drop your guard. Megumi was trying to process the situation while you and what seemed to be your dead husband stared the other down.

How was this possible? Why was this possible? You were informed of the activities and whereabouts of your estranged husband twelve years ago. Of how one night out of the blue, Toji just left with no trace of returning whatsoever. Leaving you, Tsumiki, and Megumi behind one day and never bothering to return to the three of you ever again. You were told by your own junior and student, Satoru Gojo, that he killed your husband in an intense battle where he blew a hole in him. Telling you his last words were to look after his wife and children as you cried over the fate of your love. You thought you never got to see your Toji alive again, the last time you saw him was in the morgue where Satoru and Principal Yagi showed you the corpse of your husband to confirm his identity.

Your denial was strong, stronger than your resolution to be rational. You saw your husband dead, pale, cold, and mortal as you saw his left arm and chunks of his torso were missing. Your husband was gone from this mortal plane. Yet, here he was. Your husband was standing in front of you like he was never dead, to begin with. Your body felt cold, shaking from the adrenaline that was produced, your breath lodged in your throat, and your heartbeats were all that you heard. A wave of confusion, astonishment, disbelief, sorrow, and anguish flashed over you. As you stood there, Megumi became even more disoriented. You were known for being calm and in control in battles and missions as he heard from his teacher. On the other hand, this was something he had never seen before. You weren’t standing in fear. No, Megumi couldn’t tell one feeling from you but multiple feelings washed over you like a wave crashing against the sea wall. Megumi couldn’t tell a single thing from you. You were his own mother, and yet he couldn’t understand what you were going through.

It was like you'd seen a ghost, and he didn't know he would be right.

“Mom… Snap out of it... This man is a perfected form of Maki-san… He’s too dangerous for us… If we don’t take him down, we’re done for… We need to fight together to win against him… Mom, please…”

To the untrained ear, it sounded like Megumi was commanding you. But the reality is, he was desperately pleading to you. Although you heard your son, his words fell on deaf ears. If this somehow was the Toji you know, you know he wouldn’t kill you. He didn’t recognize his son but he definitely recognized you, which meant he wasn’t going for the kill just yet. If he didn’t recognize you, he would’ve killed Megumi and you within seconds. But deep down, you knew your Toji was somewhere inside of whatever he was possessing, you think. As naive and in denial as you are, you took the risk and held out the fight just a bit longer. In hopes, the soul of your deceased husband could remember you. As the man that you believed was your husband stands the opposite of you, he just stares at the two of you. You fiercely yet calmly protect your son while Megumi's strong demeanor clashes with the sweat bullets on his forehead.

“You…boy… What's your name?” Toji bluntly asks Megumi.

Megumi’s guard drops a bit by the bizarre question the stranger asked, unbeknownst to him that he was talking to his father. He wasn’t sure about answering the question but he was intrigued by the nature of the stranger’s decision to ask.

“(L/N) Fushiguro…” Megumi hesitantly muttered.

“It’s not Zen’in…? I’m glad…”

And with that, you watched as Toji stabbed himself in the head with his weapon. You regained your breath as you gasped at the action. Before Toji’s body hit the pavement with a splattered thud, you could have heard him mouth something to you.

‘’m sorry, (Y/N)...’

While your son’s mouth was open because of the absurdity of the situation, you could feel your own tears welling up. Megumi runs over to look at the corpse, he is shocked that it reverted back to the original host before Toji’s soul took over.

“What the hell was that about… Mom…?”

Megumi looks over to see you crying. Your mind wiped itself off of any self-control as your knees collapsed to the ground. You were heaving deep breaths while small sobs escaped each time you let a breath out. Concern takes over Megumi as he runs over to you, asking what’s wrong. He would have asked who that man was and what is your relationship with him but right now isn’t the best moment for your current state. As you start to calm down, Megumi is right there hugging you for comfort. You couldn’t believe yourself. He was there, he was right fucking there in front of your very eyes! Standing there with his pompous and confident attitude. You thought you were over with this, having to come to terms that your love was dead and never return to you in this time. That you had already mourned the loss of your husband all those twelve years ago. But it seems like you never truly moved on from it.

When Megumi was younger, he would constantly ask about his father. After the news of his death, you never told him nor Tsumiki the real fate of their father. Tsumiki was an observant and smart girl, she knew the topic of her father was a sensitive one given your reactions. That’s why she stopped asking about him when she was young. It didn’t take long for Megumi to follow suit with his older sister. Slowly stopped asking about his father and grew a slight resentment towards him because he let you raise your two children alone while never giving a reason why. The days he remembered as a young boy of your crestfallen expression, how your smile never reached your eyes. The only time you did this was when you were spending time with him and Tsumiki. He never remembered his father or what he looked like. To Megumi, he was always out of the picture. It was just you, him, his older sister, and Gojo-sensei. That was his family. But he still couldn’t wrap his head around one thing. He remembered he asked how many people did you fall in love with before you met his father. Your answer always intrigued him because you told him that your first and only love was his and Tsumiki’s father.

He can never understand your love for his father after everything he put you through. But you never gave Megumi a definitive answer. All you said was, “When the time comes for me to be ready, I will eventually tell you, Megumi-sweetie”. As you start to gather yourself, Megumi felt his rationale wasn’t working as he was trying to piece this together to make sense of it all. As Megumi helps you up, you wipe your tears away and even out your breathing. You thought you were ready to tell Megumi the truth, the truth about his father and everything that led up to this point. But in the confrontation you just had with your deceased beloved, the confidence you had vanished and your readiness was replaced with uncertainty. As cowardice it was to admit, you knew the truth would come out sooner or later. But right now isn’t a good time to tell your son this. Right now, everything is falling apart and the best course of action is to regroup with the other. Perhaps when this is all over, you could tell your son the truth. He does deserve it, after all.

“Mom, are you okay? I don’t understand or know what’s going on… I don’t even know where that man even came from…”

“Megumi, honey. I know you are confused and have many questions for me. Unfortunately, I cannot answer them right now. What matters right now is we find the others and regroup with them. I’ll be fine, my dear. Now, we gotta go and find the rest of them in what’s left of Shibuya.”

You offered a smile for reassurance for your son. But your son knows you better, your smile didn’t reach your eyes. While he made that observation, he didn’t comment on it. He only nodded and followed your lead. With that, you and your son quickly trekked the empty Shibuya streets to find the others. However, what you and your son will soon find out is that the Battle in Shibuya will be known as a calamity in Jujutsu history and ultimately end in tragedy.

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Hope you enjoyed it! Have a wonderful day and don't forget to drink your favorite drink!

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