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myeagleexpert · 5 months ago

Text

Throw wood on the fire

Pairing: Tim Drake/Red Robin x YN AFAB Warning: yandere fic, toxic relationaship, he's possessive, you're stubborn, obsessive, emotional manipulation, nswf (pt 2) Summary: You and Tim have always been soulmates, but it's so suffocating that you've reached your limit. It's time to break up with Tim. Note: Reader is described and represented as YN or as "You" because, grammarly, I'm trying to adapt the text so that it is more harmonious! Eng is not my mother language, so often the way I write does not relate to the translator and I have to translate most of my works manually. Therefore, thank you for understanding!

After a great night spent with your friends, having fun and bringing lightness to life, without even worrying about the time. But as the night is young, you have an annoying alarm telling you that it's time to go back to bed: Tim. You enter yours a luxurious apartment in the city center. Your shoulders immediately tensed when you heard his voice demanding answers.

"YN where were you??" He immediately grabs your arm and demands to know where you've been and why you were so late getting back

"Relax Tim, I just went out with my friends" you say taking off your red high heels, sighing heavily as you have this same conversation…for the fifth time.

Tim's expression remains stern as he crosses his arms across his chest. "I don't care if you were out with your friends," he retorts.

"I told you to be back by 10 PM. It's midnight." mentally you ignore him as you take off your fancy suit and place your bag on a couch in the living room.

Tim follows after you, his annoyance growing with every step. "That's not an excuse," he snaps, his voice sharp. "You knew what time you were supposed to be home, and you didn't even try to keep track of the time."

He watches as you start walking to your room, and he grabs your hand to stop you. "We're not done talking about this." he says firmly. "You need to understand how worried I was about you being out so late."

"We just talked about it. I came back late by accident, it already happened there's no way back. I said I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Happy now?" Irritated, you release your hand from his grip and return to your route.

Tim's jaw clenches tightly as he listens to your response. He clearly isn’t satisfied with your dismissive attitude.

"No, I'm not happy," he replies with a mix of irritation and frustration in his voice. "You don't seem to understand how big of a deal this is for me. You're supposed to be mine, and I need to know where you are, what you're doing, who you're with. It's for your own safety."

"When did such a healthy relationship become so suffocating? Where is the Tim I knew? Why is it getting more and more tiring to continue this?" YN thinks, searching the timeline for where and when the red flags started to appear… and when she started ignoring them.

"I'm your girlfriend, I'm not an object to possess Tim." I look at him seriously "We've talked about this before, I'm going to sleep now. You can't control me 24 hours." Tim's expression hardens even more as you challenge him. He's not used to being contradicted or questioned, especially when it comes to you.

Your therapist said that in moments like this it was ideal to remain calm and that counting to 10 would help to calm down and not explode at others.

1....2....3.......

"You're my girlfriend, and that means you're mine," he insists firmly. "I'm not trying to control you, I'm trying to protect you. Can't you see that?"

He takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. "I care about you, more than anything else. I can't stand the thought of something happening to you. It drives me crazy when I can't keep an eye on you."

4......

You increase the distance and turn your back to Tim, ignoring his words while you change your clothes and put on satin pajamas. He looks at you irritated as you lie down on the big bed, covering me with the soft linen blankets. Tim’s eyes follow you as you changed into your pjamas and climbed into bed, his irritation growing with every movement you make. He stands there, his fingers clenched tightly into fists as he watches you get comfortable in bed.

“You’re seriously just going to go to sleep now?” He asks, his voice tight with frustration. “We’re not done talking about this.”

"I would love to talk about this with you, but as you can see, I'm already asleep. And good night dear, be careful the bogeyman doesn't get you" you say sarcastically as you cover your head with the sheets, mentally praying that Tim will give up any upset tonight, your patience has been...very little.Tim's jaw clenches even tighter as he listens to your sarcastic retort. He's clearly not amused by your dismissive attitude and attempts to end the discussion.

5....

He takes another step towards the bed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You're seriously being a brat right now? I'm trying to talk to you like an adult, but you're just acting like a child, YN."

He stops at the edge of the bed, looking down at you with a mixture of irritation and frustration in his eyes. "You can't just shut me out and expect this conversation to go away," he continues, his voice firm. "We need to talk about what happened tonight. You can't just pretend it didn't happen!"

"Tim." you look at him seriously "I don't want to talk about it now, I'm tired and sleepy. We'll talk about it tomorrow."Tim's expression softens slightly as he meets your gaze, but his stubbornness remains. He sighs heavily before replying.

"I don't want to wait until tomorrow," he says, his voice still firm but slightly calmer. "I need to know what happened tonight. Where were you? Who were you with? What were you doing?"

6.....

"If you keep insisting, I'm going to go out in my pajamas and sleep at a friend's house." You threaten him as you run your hand through your hair, for a moment, Tim's gaze turns dark, he knows you have the audacity to do this.

"You're really going to leave in the middle of the night and go sleep at one of your friends' houses? Over this?" he asks, his voice filled with a mix of irritation and disbelief.

7.....

"Goodnight darling." You get up irritated and give him a kiss as you get out of bed. Still in your pajamas, you take your car keys and I go out to the garage where my beloved car awaits me. Tim follows hot on your heels, his expression a mix of alarm and determination.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he calls out, his voice tinged with worry.

He can't believe you're actually leaving in the middle of the night. He catches up to you just as you're about to get in your car.

Tim grabs your arm, trying to stop you from getting into the car. "You can't just leave like this," he says urgently. "We need to talk about what happened tonight. I need to know that you're safe."

You take his hand off your arm and say dryly "I'm fine and safe as you can see, see you tomorrow. I'm not going to talk to you irritated!" YN say, getting into the car and turning on the ignition, pressing the control to open the gate.

8.....

Tim's expression turns to one of frustration and helplessness as he watches you get into the car. He knows he can't stop you from leaving, but it kills him to see you so upset and willing to walk out in the middle of the night.

"Damnit, don't do this," he says, his voice pleading. "Please don't drive off in anger. Just come back inside and we can talk about this like adults."

He takes a step closer to the car, leaning down to look at you through the open window. His expression is a mix of concern and desperation.

9....

"Please, just don't drive off like this. It's the middle of the night, and I'm worried about you being out alone. Just come back inside, and we can talk this out."

"I don't want to talk right now." you start the car and start walking when he stops irritated, and almost crying, in front of the car "Excuse me, I need to pass if you don't mind" you say disguising the anger and frustration, honking the horn calmly. Tim takes a step back, his arms falling to his sides in frustration. He watches with a mix of anger and helplessness as you start to drive away.

But just as you're about to pass him, he steps in front of the car, blocking your path.

“TIM!”

Fuck counting to 10...

"What the hell are you doing?" he blurts out, his voice tight with irritation and worry. "You're really going to drive off like this in the middle of the night? It's not safe!"

He stands in front of the car, his eyes locked on yours through the windshield. "God Damnit, just stop and talk to me," he pleads, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and desperation. "We can't just leave things this way. You can't just walk out and leave in the middle of the night without talking to me about what happened tonight."

"I'll text one of your robots to read." you respond sarcastically while rolling your eyes, but after taking a deep breath, you try to negotiate with him "If you stay quiet, I'll come back and sleep on the couch. If you keep insisting like this, I'll leave now and only come back in the morning" I turn on the car and make the engine make a loud noise.Tim listens to your response, his expression growing more frustrated by the second. He clenches his fists at his sides, clearly fighting the urge to argue further.

Tim considers your offer for a moment, his mind racing with frustration and worry. But he knows he doesn't really have a choice right now.

"Fine," he finally says, his voice tight. "But we are going to talk about this in the morning. And you better not try to sneak out again tonight."

He takes a step back, allowing you to drive off, but his expression is still filled with irritation and worry. He watches as you drive off, his mind racing with frustration and insecurity.

"Damnit," he mutters to himself as he watches you drive away. "Why does she always have to be so damn stubborn."

The powefull Red Robin, stands there for a moment, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. he's torn between the need to go after you and the knowledge that you won't listen right now.

His mind races with conflicting thoughts. he's worried about your safety, but he's also irritated by your stubbornness. He knows he should just let you go for the night, but the thought of not knowing where you are or what you're doing is driving him insane.Tim takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. he knows he can't just follow your car and chase you down. That would only make things worse. But the thought of you driving off in anger and irritation, alone in the middle of the night, is eating him alive.

At that point, it was like throwing wood on the fire, fueling anger and rebellion.

As time passed, YN saw the love she felt for Tim gradually turning into a prison. Like a perfect fairy tale it lost its color, slowly turning into a horror film where she would be the only victim.

“Baby, we need to talk…”

The constant need to be together and Tim's obsession with protecting her created a web of possession that left her increasingly suffocated. Constant calls, constant paranoia, constant accusations… it was all getting too much. As heiress to her father's company, YN always tried to be at the height of the company and it was very difficult with a boyfriend demanding to know who she was with all the time, why she cared about all that and why… that man was shaking her hand .

Each day was a desperate effort to maintain some of his autonomy, while Tim became more controlling and domineering. The feeling of being constantly surrounded by a hyperprotective guard was oppressive, depriving her of space to breathe.

“How will I know she’s really your friend? !What if she wants to poison your head about our relationship?!”

YN tried to rebel against the prison that had become her relationship, her stubbornness and her independence at stake. She began to become more indifferent towards Tim's possessive efforts, trying to create the distance needed to have more control over her life. Increasing and rebuilding the walls that were previously knocked down with sarcastic, poisonous comments, trying to get back to having a busy and festive life like before. However, each attempt to regain her autonomy was met with resistance from Tim, who desperately clung to the illusion of being her protector. With every step she took toward freedom, he strived to hold her back, increasing his possessiveness and desperation to keep her by her side.

“Why do you want to go to this event alone? We're a couple, aren't we? What are you going to do there that you won’t need me?”

Little by little, the web was made by Tim's efforts and undone by YN's stubbornness, it was a tiring, exhausting process and honestly YN was already at the limit of it all.

Like a butterfly that turns and convulses its way out of its web, so YN was determined to fly free again.

The plan to sleep over at a friend Daisy's house failed, leaving only one friend on the other side of the city. YN breathes a sigh of relief as she turn off location, cell phone, and any other service that has anything that connects to it. While at his house, you took advantage of the time away from Tim and focused on your training, finally a full workout without Tim hacking the gym. You posted some photos and videos on social media, recording your workout and the breakfast you were having with your friend you met the other day.

Meanwhile, Tim was anxious and worried, unable to focus on anything other than his absence. He became even angrier when he saw your posts on social media. He knew that you were making these posts on purpose to irritate him, which only increased his anger and frustration. he tried to control himself, but he couldn't help the feeling of helplessness and anxiety that overwhelmed him. He wanted to know where you were, what you were doing, who was with you.

It was noon when you called Tim, giving him the air of your presence "Tim, are you home now? Do you want me to bring you lunch?" YN say hoping he would forget the conversation as she gets into the car, reapplying lipstick and putting on sunglasses.

Tim answers the phone, trying to control the frustration and anxiety in his voice. He was in the apartment, busy with work, when you called.

"Yes, I'm home," he replies, trying to remain calm. "But there's no need to bring lunch, I'll order something." He tries to keep the conversation casual, but he can't forget the argument from the night before.

"I'll order… Your favorite" You say trying to lighten the mood, the calm before the storm. Tim hesitates for a moment, his frustration with the situation still present. But his favorite's offer makes him relent.

"Okay, fine," he says, trying not to show how much he was looking forward to your return. "But you'll be here soon, right?"

"If I say I'm going to help the chef, will you let me take my time?" I try to bargain with him. Tim is holding back.

Tim takes a deep breath, his possessive and controlling side taking over for a moment. He really wanted you home where he could keep an eye on you and make sure you were safe. But he also knew that you wouldn’t give in that easily. He tries to remain calm as he responds.

But he also knew that you wouldn’t give in that easily. He tries to remain calm as he responds.

"For how long?" he asks, irritated. "And why do you need to help the chef?"

"I'm going to make the special recipe with him" you say without even realizing it, a little evil in the intonation, but soon swallow it to be a decent person, , as if she hadn't thrown wood on the fire.

Tim raises his eyebrows when you mention "the special recipe." What the hell were you doing? The “Special Recipe” was a dish that only the two of you made. Period. It was a couple thing and not a delivery from a fancy restaurant. It wasn't a different seasoning or something exotic, the fun of the “special recipe” was making the YN and Tim recipe, a pasta where the two make romantically in the kitchen, an illusion of domesticity and togetherness.

"The special recipe?" he repeats, irritation and suspicion evident in his voice. "Why the special recipe? You didn't mention anything like that before."

"Isn't it your favorite, love? I'll be there in 20 minutes"

"Okay, cool," he replies, his voice tense. "I'll be waiting for you."

Tim notices the sarcastic tone in her voice, but he tries to ignore it, his irritation still present. He knows you're joking, but he can't help but wonder what's really going on. He was sitting in his office, trying to stay calm and work while he waited for you. But his irritation and frustration were quickly growing as the minutes passed.

YN arrived at the shared apartment within 40 minutes, ready to talk. "Good morning Einstein" she takes off her heels and goes to the living room, placing the delivery in the kitchen watching the fuming man leave the office

When you finally arrived, he quickly got up from the office and left to meet you in the living room. His look was serious and full of anger.

"Six hours" was the first word he spoke, without even greeting you. His tone was cold and controlled, but the irritation was evident in his expression and in every word he said.

"Six fucking hours," he repeated, "No news, no messages, nothing. I was on the verge of madness, not knowing if you were okay or not." He approached you, his eyes locked on yours. He wanted to hug you, pull you into his arms, but the feeling of irritation and frustration prevailed at the moment.

"Explain to me," he demanded, his voice firm. "Where were you? What were you doing? Who was with you?"

"I went to celebrate our company's profit with my friends from work" friends that he hated "Then I went to that restaurant that opened now, the Japanese one" That Tim hated "As it was early at night, I was invited to a party at the other city with the girls." girls who hated Tim "As we had a disagreement yesterday, so I slept at Galileo's house" the guy who hit on you

With every word you spoke, Tim's expression changed. He felt his veins pulsing with anger and frustration as you mentioned your friends and the guy who hit on you while you explained in an indifferent way, as if you were talking about the weather and not turning on warning sirens in Tim's head.

He tried to contain his possessive and controlling side, but it was difficult to control his feelings. The thought of you spending the night at another man's house drove him completely insane.

"Did you sleep at another man's house?" he repeated, his anger evident in his voice. "Daisy wasn't home, my closest option was Galileo." "He's gay baby, relax" YN says

Tim snorts when you say Galileo is gay. Even though he knew he wasn't interested in women, the idea of you spending the night at another man's house was irritating to him, especially because Tim saw him hitting on you and was paranoid since from the first time the two of you were introduced. He tries to calm down, but the anger still clings to him like a thorn.

"That doesn't change the fact that you slept at another man's house," he snaps. "Because my man wouldn't let me sleep in peace" I retort with the same intensity

Tim takes a deep breath, his hands clench into fists in anger. He knows you're right, but he doesn't want to admit it. He feels the guilt slowly creeping into him, but the anger still prevails.

"You ran away from me," he responds, his voice firm. "You just left our house without a word and i didn't hear from you for hours." The muscles in Tim's neck tighten as he speaks, anger and frustration mixing in his words.

"I was worried," he continues, "I was desperate not knowing where you were or if you were safe. I tried calling and texting you, but you left me hanging." His voice becomes lower and more intense as he continues to speak.

"And now, I find out that you spent the night at another man's house, the guy I detest, for God's sake."

He moves closer, invading your personal space, chest rising and falling with each hectic breath.

"How do you think I feel, huh?" he asks, his voice tense. "What do you think I was like, not hearing from you, not knowing where you were, what you were doing, who you were with?" He places his hands on both sides of her face, forcing Yn to look directly into his blue eyes. Mentally trying to connect his stormy eyes with your lovely ones. How cute, you might think….

A boyfriend desperate for his girlfriend's well-being, and everything for her protection, hmm?

Apart from the fact that they've had this conversation before.

How a prey follows the natural instincts that the predator will attack, turning on the fight or flight button…..

So YN remains firm and upright, she can notice the gentle changes in Tim's gaze, his worried speech, his dominant touch trying to make her “stay in her place”, but there is not a hint of guilt in her eyes.

YN had seen this film many, many times, the same script with the same characters. It's time to leave the cinema and live real life.

"Sorry, it won't happen again." you press your hand against his for a few seconds and then remove it from your face, looking at him seriously, your eyes as steady as a mountain weathering the storm. Tim's smile widened, but it closed realizing something was going to happen. Tim looks at you, his face showing a brief expression of relief and happiness as you rest your hand against his. But that feeling quickly fades when she realizes something isn't right.

He tries to stay calm, waiting for you to say something.

"What it was?" he asks, the anger and irritation still evident in her voice. "I know that expression. What are you going to do?"

The silence lasts for a few seconds as you remain quiet, your gaze serious and determined. Tim feels the atmosphere getting tense, he knows something is happening but he doesn't know what, and he hates every second of not knowing what goes on in Yn's head.

He crosses his arms, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for you to speak. His patience is starting to run out.

"Come on," he scolds, his voice brusque. "Speak quickly."

"I think we better break up." In the same way I speak abruptly, and I see his world turning upside down. Tim's expression changes immediately, as if he's been punched in the stomach. He stays frozen in place, his mind trying to process what you just said.

What? No… it can't be….. No…..it's not real. She must just be mad….

He babbles for a few seconds, unable to form words.

"I-I didn't hear you right," he finally says, his voice shaking slightly. "Repeat please."

"I think its better if we better break up, Tim. It's not working out, sorry." The words fall like a hammer on Tim's heart. He remains still, his mind trying desperately to find the words to argue, to change your mind.

He opens and closes his mouth several times, his hands shaking slightly. Finally, he manages to speak, his voice fragile and shaky.

"But…but why?" he asks, his words coming out almost like a whisper. ' "You know why."

Tim remains silent, his gaze fixed on his. He knows exactly what you're saying, but he still doesn't want to accept it. Millions of conversations about the relationship, the opinion of friends and family, the indirect ones, the distance… he knows he's being too much, that he's trying to imprison you, that he's pushing you away with all his obsession and paraoic… but he He can't stop, you're his drug. Slowly killing and addicting him until he can no longer live without you.

He runs a shaky hand through his black hair, trying to control himself but failing miserably.

"I…" he tries to say, but his voice trails off. He takes a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to speak. "I can change."

He won't change. Yn thinks, already knowing where this story would end.

"You don't need to change, Tim. I'm the problem here." I put my hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure someone out there will appreciate and value all your concern and your temper. But we've been hurting each other a lot lately."

Tim holds your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. He knows you're right, that things weren't working between you. But he can't accept it.

"I-i don't want it to end," he murmurs, his voice lowering. "I love you. I want to make it work."

“Listen Tim… I-” your sentence is cut off when Tim hugs you tightly, his head resting on your shoulder as he starts to cry. He tries to control himself, but emotion takes over him.

He squeezes you tighter, like he's desperately trying to keep you from leaving. Trying to bring you close, inhaling your scent, feeling your heat, trying to mold your body to his.

"Piplease," he whispers, voice shaking from crying. "Please don't leave. Please stay with me."

Tim continues to hold you, his body shaking with the emotions he's trying to keep under control. He doesn’t want to let you go, desperate to keep you by his side.

Anything other than us breaking up…

I don't accept it… I don't want it!

How will I exist without you by my side?

Why don't you want to try again?

He lifts his head, looking at you with red, teary eyes.

"I'll change," he promises, his voice husky. "I promise I'll change. Just don't leave. Please don't leave me."

He holds your face and looks at you, with hearts in his eyes, knowing that you won't give in anytime soon. He uses emotional blackmail to make Yn stay, after all, she always liked beautiful words, covered in honey.

Don't you love him anymore? Why do you want to hurt him so much?

Tim desperately tries to find a way to change your mind. He knows words aren't working, so he takes desperate action...

He holds your face tightly, looking directly and deeply into your eyes.

"If you leave…," he murmurs, voice shaking. "I won't be able to live. I'll go crazy without you. Please don't leave me. I won't survive."

"You're Red Robin, you've survived worse things." YN says trying to free herself from him which makes him increase the emotional blackmail, holding you against him, she tries to cut off his line of reasoning, the blackmail, the depraved words but it seems like it only makes everything increase more…. Tim remains holding you, his grip becoming firmer as YN tries to break free. He can see that you are not giving in easily and desperately grasps at any means possible to make you stay.

He presses his face against your neck, his voice shaky as he murmurs.

"It's not just a matter of physical survival," he says, voice muffled by the contact of his face against her skin. "I won't be able to live without you. You are my reason for living."

"I'm going to die without you…..I'll kill myself if I don't have you by my side…" He threatens, increasingly serious and desperate, for a moment, in the name of all the love in your relationship, you fear for his life.

Tim continues to murmur against your delicate neck, his embrace becoming almost painful. He seems desperate to keep you by his side, whatever the cost. He puts one hand on your back, the other wrapping around your waist. He pulls you against him, as if he's afraid he'll let you escape.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice rough with emotions. "I love you so much. Please don't leave. Please stay with me." Tim continues to beg the same words, his embrace becoming more and more desperate as he tries to stop you from leaving.

He looks completely vulnerable, as if his life depended on it. His voice is low and full of emotion as he repeats as a pray:

"I love you. I love you. I'll get better, I promise. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

When he hears your silence, his voice rises as if to prove he is telling the truth, almost shouting in your ear as he shakes and sobs in fear. Tim raises his voice as he desperately tries to convince you to stay, his words increasing in intensity as he sobs and shakes in fear.

He clings to you as if you were his anchor, his body shaking with emotion.

"I'll do anything for our relationship," he repeats, his voice almost desperate. "I'll get better for you. I'll change. I'll do whatever it takes. Just… please… don't leave me."

Tim's sobs grow stronger as he tries to hold back the tears. He's clearly desperate, his hug growing tighter and tighter as he desperately tries to keep you by his side.

With pity, YN runs an involuntary hand through Tim's hair, making him hope. "Are you really going to change?" I know he won't change, but maybe I can push the breakup further, in a month or two when he gets used to the idea.

Yn makes a mental note of the idea, without knowing that Tim himself already had plans for the two of them stay toguether forever.

Tim seems to perk up slightly when he feels your hand running through his hair, feeling you give in a little. He lifts his head, looking at you with a hopeful look.

He nods, his eyes still red from tears, but a little calmer.

"I'll change," he promises, voice firmer. "I'll be better for you. Just…give me another chance. Please."

"Okay…. the last one" with that he kisses you and cries more, relieved that you changed your mind. Tim takes the opportunity to kiss you, his tongue penetrating your mouth in a desperate and needy way. He cries as he kisses you, the relief evident in his gesture.

You still haven't said you love him too….. You do not love me anymore?

However, he is not satisfied with just the kiss, the insecurities and the countless scenarios running wild in his mind. He uses everything he can, pressing your body against his as he murmurs low, desperate words.

Will you still leave me? No, please no! You still love me?

"I won't survive without you!" he whispers, arms squeezing you against him. "You are everything to me. Just give me one more chance, please."

Tim repeats the same words, his hands roaming her body as he presses YN against him. He's desperate to keep you close, his embrace becoming almost possessive. He brings his mouth to her neck, kissing and biting the skin gently.

"I'm a dead man without you," he whispers, voice hoarse with emotion. "I won't survive without you. Just give me one more chance, please. Just one more, Yn. I love you so much..."

"…..I love you, Tim. Let's get better okay?" I confirm it when I hug him back

Tim takes a moment to process the words, his hands shaking with relief and hope. He hugs you tighter, his facial expression softening slightly. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tries to contain the tangle of emotions inside him.

"I'll make you happy," he promises, voice hoarse. "I'm going to be the best man I can be. Just… have a little more patience with me."

Tim remains hugging you for a few minutes, trying to calm down as his mind seems to spin with all the emotions. He takes a deep breath, trying to control his heart that feels like it's about to come out of his chest and YN is the only thing keeping him sane, stable, preventing him from becoming another Gotham madman.

He lifts his head again, looking at you with an almost vulnerable look.

"I'll get better," he whispers, his voice firm but soft. "I'm going to do everything differently. Just… don't leave me. Please." He continued to hold your face in his shaking hands, trying to hold you against him. Trying to breathe your air. Trying to get into your heart.

YN kisses him on the mouth, catching him off guard "I know you're going to do it differently, my love. It's going to be okay."

YN feels so exhausted by this argument, fed up and patiently reaching the end, realizing that he won't let them end that easily. So, YN changes her mind, mentally changing her strategy before Tim arrests her and chains her in the apartment.

you tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. "Let's watch a movie, hmm?" She suggests he calm down, cutting off any obsessive or paranoid trains of thought with a gentle smile.

Tim seems almost surprised by the unexpected gesture of the kiss, but he quickly recovers. His hands lightly squeeze her waist as he returns the gesture.

He nodded, his voice a little calmer.

"Yes, a film." He responds, his facial expression less tense. "That sounds good. Like we did before."

Tim moves away from you a little, but he doesn't let go of you completely. As he takes you to the couch, he remains close, with one hand on your waist, melting into Yn's warmth, the familiar scent bringing him a sense of comfort and security that only she can bring.

It looks like the film will repeat itself again.

The beautiful butterfly is caught in the spider's suffocating webs.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

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redroomreflections · 2 months ago

Text

When in Bloom

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

10/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 7.9k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha makes the ultimate sacrifice.

Note: I spent my entire Sunday writing this. I paused and rewound the movie 50 times. I utilized ChatGPT to help me with timelines. I read the script. I pulled out all the resources to ensure I did my big one for y'all. Special shoutout to Grammarly Premium for making my writing look and sound professional-like. Enjoy =)

Breakfast was always something Natasha found important. In her mind, it was more than just a meal; it was the fuel that powered her through the day. She never skipped it, a rare and comforting constant in her life. Even now, in a quiet city apartment far removed from the chaos of her past, the ritual of making breakfast each morning grounded her.

In the Red Room, food was always viewed strictly as fuel, something utilitarian and calculated. She never spoke much about those years, especially not with Nicky—he was still too young to understand, and she didn’t want that darkness clouding his view of her. But she could remember the harsh regimens, the rigid routines, the lessons drilled into her: taking care of herself wasn’t a luxury; it was mandatory. A weak Widow was a liability; weakness was something she had never been allowed to show.

She tried not to think too deeply about what her training had left her with—it was just one more thing in a long line of things that had happened to her.

"Mama, I'm almost ready," Nicky shuffled to the room with his laces untied and jacket hanging from his body. Ollie walked with him at his tail. He sat next to Natasha, looking up with big, hopeful eyes.

"I don't have anything for you, sweet boy," Natasha smiled apologetically. Ollie whined and laid his head on the floor. Natasha turned away from the dog to inspect Nicky. He was sitting on the floor, his hands attempting to tie his laces as his little tongue stuck out.

"What do you need, Myshka?" Natasha asked, and Nicky held his foot up.

"I can't do the knots, they're too small."

Natasha smiled and tied his shoes. She stood up, and Nicky followed suit, his coat fully zipped and his backpack slung over his shoulders.

"Can we stop for hot chocolate on the way to school?"

"I made breakfast," Natasha shook her head.

"Eggs and toast again?" He asked as he sat at the table.

"Eggs and toast," Natasha nodded. It was all she knew how to make without burning.

"Okay," Nicky sighed, "but I want a donut tomorrow."

Natasha rolled her eyes.

"We'll see," she answered.

"It's a promise!" He said.

"You know how I feel about those," she chided. "I don't make them unless I can follow through."

Nicky dug into his eggs and toast with a resigned but good-natured sigh; Natasha sat across from him, her phone buzzing softly on the table. She’d promised herself that breakfast would always be their time, uninterrupted, but the messages were piling up.

Okoye: "Natasha, we’re seeing unusual cartel activity in Mexico City. I think it’s Barton."

Rhodes: "Saw the same. We have casualties this time—he’s not holding back anymore. Might be time to intervene."

She rubbed her temples, reading over each message carefully. It had been like this for months: catching glimpses of Barton’s brutal one-man war, getting vague reports, but never close enough to reach him. And each new incident seemed to confirm what she already knew—Clint was spiraling, slipping further away with every mission.

Nicky munched on his toast, his little eyes flitting between her and Ollie, who was sulking on the floor. She gave him a quick smile, trying to shake the tension out of her shoulders, and typed a response.

"I'm on it. I'll be at the compound in an hour," She typed.

"Who's that?" Nicky asked, his eyes still watching Ollie.

"A friend," Natasha said, putting her phone down. "They're working on a case."

"The Avenger kind of case?"

"Exactly the kind," she nodded.

"Can I go on a mission with you someday?"

"Hmm, you have to finish first grade and learn to tie your shoes," She said. "Then we can talk."

Nicky finished the rest of his breakfast, and Natasha helped him clean up and get his backpack ready. As she grabbed her jacket, Natasha saw a message flash from another chat, this one from Nora.

Nora: "Hey, are we still on for tonight? Let me know what you’re in the mood for."

They’d only met a few months ago, but Natasha was easing into an unlikely friendship with Nora. They both tried to ignore the fact that they'd almost slept together. Their camaraderie was something she needed during this time. Someone who didn't know her world. Someone as a listening ear.

She hadn’t told Nora much about her past or work—what she could share, anyway—but Nora seemed to sense her guardedness and never pressed for more.

Natasha quickly typed back:

Natasha: "Still on for tonight. Maybe something low-key? Let’s catch up."

She tucked the phone into her jacket pocket and helped Nicky and Ollie out of the apartment, locking the door behind them.

Their walk to his bus stop was uneventful. Nicky counted the steps to the corner, babbling to her about something she had no idea about. Traffic at this time was nonexistent, especially after the Snap. It was just her, Nicky, and Ollie walking, their steps in sync.

"Remember your homework and ensure you're practicing your cursive," she reminded him.

"I know, I will," Nicky huffed.

"Have a good day at school," Natasha said, crouching down to Nicky's level. "I love you, always."

"Love you too," he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Bye, Ollie!"

He ran off, his backpack bouncing with him, as he met the other children at the bus stop. The bus rolled in, and the children all piled in. Natasha stayed until the doors shut, and the bus disappeared from her view.

This was their normal.

********

The training room was quiet, and the soft hum of electricity was all around her. She could hear the shuffling of her feet and the clank of the bag as it hit the floor.

It had taken Natasha a while, but she found her rhythm again. She stood in front of the mirror, wearing a simple black shirt and sweatpants, her feet grounded to the floor as she pulled her hair into a tight, controlled bun. Her fingers moved with practiced precision, twisting and pinning the strands into place as if the routine and discipline would quiet the noise in her mind. Every movement felt deliberate, a small act of control.

The soft padding of her shoes across the floor felt comforting as she moved to the center of the room. She stretched, her arms reaching above her head, bending into a series of quiet, fluid motions. There was a certain peace in this, a kind of grace she hadn’t known she needed until she found it again.

She moved through pirouettes, the motion sharp and fluid before she landed softly back onto the floor. Natasha paused, standing tall, breathing steady. She was a soldier. A leader. A mother. But for this moment, she was just a woman, letting her body regain balance.

When she had the time, she would sit in this training room. Sometimes, she'd cry. Other times, she would dance when her mind and body needed it.

Today, she'd danced.

Her hands came up in a strong pose, her right leg pointed, and her left hand raised.

The music started with a quiet melody.

Her muscles remembered. Her body knew what to do.

Natasha took a deep breath, and then she began to dance.

The ache in her chest seemed to tighten with every motion, a dull, constant throb she couldn't shake. It wasn't the physical exhaustion, the burn in her legs from stretching too far, too long—it was the grief, the absence, a constant reminder of what had been taken from her.

The anniversary was coming up. Eight and a half years together. She tried not to think about it, but the numbers wouldn't leave her alone. Five years lost. It felt impossible to imagine what those years might have been. What would life be like now if it were not for the Snap? If not for the universe tearing itself apart?

Stella would be nine. Natasha could almost picture it: a small girl with dark, wild curls and an infectious smile. Her eyes would have sparkled with the same mischief as you. She would have been old enough to start thinking about her future and to ask questions that Natasha would have been too tired to answer. But you'd have done it together, as a family.

Natasha stopped suddenly, her foot hitting the ground hard.

A lump had formed in her throat, and the tears threatened to spill.

The pain was like a knife, a sudden, violent stabbing deep inside.

There may have been another baby by now. Maybe she'd have been thinking about balancing the mission, the children, the quiet mornings, and the long days filled with reports and decisions. She'd have retired by now. She'd have given up avenging, given up this life of constant motion, just to hold onto the people she loved.

Her mind wandered, remembering how you’d looked when you held Stella for the first time, the joy in your eyes as you held that tiny life. Natasha wanted to hold onto that memory. She wanted to feel the weight of her daughter in her arms again. But she couldn’t.

Her foot faltered as she spun, the motion too sharp and quick. She caught herself, steadying on one leg before continuing the movement. Her body knew the steps. It was the heart that was falling behind. She could push through it—she always had.

But today, the ache felt too much to ignore. She wished for a moment that she could turn off the grief, pretend that it wasn’t there, that it didn’t eat at her every time she saw a family or a couple. Every time she saw a child running through a park or a mom at the grocery store. Every time, she thought about the future she would never have.

*********

Natasha sat among the ring of holo-screens, only half listening to the chatter from each team member. Rocket, Carol, Okoye, Nebula, and Rhodey spoke, trading updates and frustrations across the galaxy. She held a small peanut butter container in her hand, absentmindedly scooping out spoonfuls as she listened. The sandwich in front of her remained untouched. The familiar, salty taste grounded her, though it did little to quell the churn of thoughts spiraling within her.

The screen shifted to Rocket, whose frustrated voice was loud and clear.

Rocket's voice rang from the Halo. "So, thanks for the hot tip."

Natasha smirked a little despite herself, watching the banter continue between him and Carol. But her mind kept flickering back to the breakfast she'd rushed with Nicky, how she'd promised him she’d be home after her day at the compound. She'd need Nora to pick him up from school again.

Carol’s voice cut through the chatter. "The things that have been happening on Earth have been happening everywhere else. On thousands of planets. You might not see me for a long time."

Natasha swallowed another spoonful of peanut butter, feeling the weight of Carol's words settle over her. It was a reminder of just how enormous this loss was—this endless damage, stretching farther than anyone could have imagined. She’d stayed, kept her footing here, but even her little world seemed to be slipping. Her family was fractured, Barton somewhere out there in the shadows, and her friends scattered across the world, each dealing with their own aftermath.

"All right. Everybody keep keeping their eyes open... This channel’s always active. Anything goes sideways, anyone makes trouble where they shouldn’t, it comes through me." She said.

One by one, the screens blinked out, each goodbye leaving her feeling slightly lonelier. Only Rhodey remained. She knew what he’d say before he even started.

"Federalés found a room full of bodies outside Juarez. Cartel guys... Guns still in their pants. Same MO as Marseille. And Kiev."

Her chest tightened, the peanut butter sticking in her throat. She nodded grimly, acknowledging what she'd known was coming but dreaded to hear.

"It’s definitely Barton," Rhodey said.

The confirmation settled in her like a lead weight. Clint was too far gone, and whatever had driven him to this point was something she couldn’t pull him back from—not yet. Her fingers clenched the spoon tighter, and she stared at the empty container. She’d been so focused on keeping things together, on somehow pulling everyone else back into orbit, that she hadn’t noticed just how close she was to breaking herself.

"What he’s done here...what he’s been doing...I got to tell you, part of me doesn’t want to find him." Rhodey continued.

Natasha let out a long breath, steadying herself. She had to keep it together for Nicky, Clint, and everyone else who still counted on her to lead them through this unsteady world.

"Find out where he’s going next." She fought through the tears to hold it together. She took a bite of her sandwich, hoping to ease her tears, before dropping it onto the plate.

Rhodey nodded, the screen flickering off, leaving her alone. She rubbed her eyes, letting herself sink back for a long, quiet moment. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there when she heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

"I’d offer to cook you dinner, but you seem sad enough already."

She looked up, eyes weary, but a small smile breaking through. Steve could always tell.

Natasha turned to see Steve standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched her.

"Come by to do your laundry?" she asked, arching a brow.

"And see a friend," he replied.

She forced a small smile. "Your friend’s fine."

Steve raised an eyebrow, his expression softening with the familiar look he reserved for her. "She leave the house today?"

"Nothing out there I particularly want to see."

"I spotted a pod of whales coming over the bridge," he said, almost wistfully. "Closer to the city than I’ve ever seen them."

A faint, half-hearted smile tugged at Natasha’s lips. "Guess nature’s making a comeback, huh? Nice to know someone’s doing alright."

They fell into silence, and Steve watched her, something unspoken settling in the quiet. He leaned against the doorframe.

"How’s Nicky?"

Natasha's face softened at the mention of her son, her usual guarded expression slipping just a little.

"Growing faster than I can keep up with," she murmured, almost to herself. "He’s asking a lot of questions these days. Hard questions."

Steve nodded, his voice gentle. "He’s smart, like his mom."

She let out a small, tired laugh, glancing down. "Smart... yeah. And stubborn. Keeps me on my toes."

"Sounds like he’s a lot like you."

She shook her head, smiling faintly, before looking back at the table where her half-eaten sandwich sat. "He’s everything we hoped he’d be. Kind, curious... Sometimes, I wonder if he’s too gentle for this world. For what’s left of it, anyway."

A heavy silence followed her words, and Steve moved a step closer, an understanding look in his eyes.

"He’s got you to look out for him. And you’re both stronger than you think."

Natasha gave a small nod, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "Maybe."

After a long moment, Steve looked up at her, his gaze steady, honest.

"Group was interesting. I keep telling them to move on. Grow past it," he said, his voice laced with something like resignation. "And some of them actually do. But not us."

Natasha held his gaze, the weight of it settling heavily between them. "If I move on," she murmured, "who does this?"

"Maybe it doesn’t need to be done," he replied quietly.

The words lingered, sinking into her. Steve was thinking of letting go. She could see the traces of weariness on his face and how he looked around the compound.

She glanced around, taking in the remnants of what had once been their team, their family. "I used to have nothing," she said softly. "Then I got this. This job, this family..."

Her voice caught, a flash of grief breaking through her carefully composed exterior. She took a breath, collecting herself.

"And even though they’re gone, I’m still trying to be... better."

Steve’s expression softened. "I think we both need to get a life."

She let out a small, almost hollow laugh. "You first."

He gave her a slight smile, then tilted his head, looking at her curiously. "What about Nora?"

Natasha’s face shifted, her smile fading. "It’s nothing," she said, brushing it off. Her gaze fell, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want my family back, Steve. My wife... Stella..."

A deep silence settled over them. Steve nodded slowly, understanding without needing any more words.

"We did our best, Nat," he murmured. "There wasn't anything more we could have done."

"That's the difficult part," She nodded.

They stared at each other, a long, quiet moment of shared melancholy. The silence wrapped around them, a reminder of all they’d lost and the people who weren’t there to share it with them anymore.

Then, a sudden ping broke through the silence. Natasha looked down at her console, swiping to a CCTV display, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sight on the screen.

Scott Lang’s face filled the monitor, his expression hopeful yet bewildered, with Luis’s old van parked behind him.

“Hello?” Scott’s voice crackled through the speakers. “Is anyone home? This is, uh, Scott Lang? We met a few years ago. At the airport?”

Steve leaned in, frowning as he watched Scott on the screen. “This an old message?”

Natasha shook her head, stunned. “It’s the front gate.”

********

Vormir

Natasha and Clint were climbing, their breathing ragged from the exhaustion of the long ascent. The mountain seemed endless, and with every step, Natasha felt the air become thinner. It was suffocating. Her thighs were burning, her legs shaking, but she pushed through, her heart pounding in her ears as they reached the top of the cliff.

They approach an archway carved into the mountain's face, and Clint mutters to himself.

"Really starting to regret my choice here," Clint said half-jokingly.

Natasha exhaled, a dry laugh escaping her lips despite the gravity of the situation. She didn't answer immediately, her mind racing. "Yeah. I'm going to bet the raccoon didn't have to climb a mountain."

"I don’t think technically he’s a raccoon..." Clint grinned.

"Whatever. He eats garbage." She cut him off. But as Clint spoke, Natasha's smile faded, her gaze distant as she took a few more steps, each one harder than the last. There was a tightness in her chest, a knot that grew with each breath.

For a moment, the mountain felt less like a physical challenge and more like an emotional one. Every part of her wanted to stop, to tell Clint it was not worth it, but she couldn’t. She couldn't. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps caught their attention. They turned, guns drawn, ready for a fight.

"I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me," The hooded figure affirmed.

"Creepy," Clint commented.

"Welcome, Natasha, daughter of Ivan." The hooded figure gestured to her. "Clint, son of Edith."

"Creepier." He murmured.

"Who are you?" Natasha asked.

"Consider me a guide. To you and to all who seek the Soul Stone."

Their journey ended here.

********

"If we don’t get the stone, billions of people are going to stay dead." She said firmly.

Clint’s face was grim, but there was no question in his eyes. He knew what was coming. He already knew what’s been weighing on both of them.

"Then I guess we both know who it has to be,"

There was a pause. A beat where emotion played all over their faces - pain, love, heartbreak. Natasha looked at Clint, and something on her face shifted.

"Yeah, I guess we do," She said.

"I'm starting to think we don't mean the same person," Clint tilted his chin. "Nicky needs a mother."

"And he'll have her," Natasha said. As Natasha began to pull away, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, something changed.

Suddenly, the world around them shuddered. A strange, heavy pressure filled the air, like reality was bending. Natasha stumbled, her eyes snapping around, searching for the source. The ground trembled.

Suddenly she was alone.

"You think this is the end of your choice? I think you’ll find... it’s just the beginning." Red Skull's voice played around her ominously. She searched for the source but couldn't find it.

"What the hell," She cried out.

Before she could process what was happening, the world shifted again. The landscape around her warped, colors bleeding into one another as if she'd stepped through a rift into another plane of existence. Natasha closed her eyes as a wave of nausea washed over her. She only listened to her breathing and her senses until her feet hit solid ground. She could hear the running of water. If she could guess, it was a stream or... a river.

"What is this place?" She asked as she blinked her eyes open. Red Skull stood before her. Natasha looked around, hoping to find her bearings, but nothing gave her the indication that she was still on Vormir or Earth. It seemed like a purgatory of sorts. Someone else's dream.

"You’ve come this far. But I think you deserve more than just a simple end. A choice so great—perhaps you should have the chance to reconsider." Red Skull explained.

"What do you want from me?" She demanded. "Where's Clint?"

"I offer you a choice—one you may not have considered. A way out. A chance to undo it all... in a different form." He ignored her questions, only causing more confusion.

"What’s your game, Skull? What are you talking about?" She stepped closer to him. "I swear to-"

"Mama?" A voice called. Natasha froze. Her heart skipped a beat, the world narrowing into a single point of focus. That voice. Her heart dropped and then soared all at once. She didn't understand how, but she knew exactly who it was. Her stomach churned.

She turned around, her eyes scanning the familiar landscape, and then there she was.

Stella was the same age as when the Snap happened. Natasha’s breath caught in her throat. Her hair was the same—soft, messy curls that fell around her face. Her eyes were just as bright as those vivid green eyes that Natasha had only seen in her dreams. The little girl looked up at her, pure joy in her expression, a smile that could light up the entire world.

"Hi, Mama," Stella grinned up at her. Her face was unchanged, frozen in time. She looked just as Natasha remembered. Still three. Still lost in a world that didn't seem to age her.

Natasha’s heart felt like it would shatter. She rushed toward her daughter, closing the distance in a heartbeat. She pulled Stella into her arms, holding her so tightly it almost hurt. Her eyes stung with tears she couldn't contain.

"I don’t... I don’t understand. How—how are you here? You... you’re—"

But before she could finish, Stella pulled back slightly, her little face furrowed with confusion.

"Where is Mommy?" She asked

"Oh God." Natasha choked back a sob. She wants to say something, but she doesn't have the words. It was too much.

"Why is Mommy not here?" Stella's confusion turned to frustration. "You said Mommy was coming." Stella directed her anger at the Red Skull.

"Stella..." Natasha began.

Natasha’s world tilted on its axis. She held Stella tighter, her mind racing. A thousand questions rushed through her thoughts. How was this possible? What was happening to her?

But the reality of her daughter, there—now—overpowered every rational thought. The warmth of her child’s embrace was a lifeline, pulling her away from the edge of the unknown.

"I'll find Mommy, don't worry," Natasha soothed the little girl. "We'll find her together."

She rubbed her daughter’s back, trying to keep herself from breaking down. Her emotions were a whirlwind—relief, pain, confusion. But something didn't feel right. Something was off.

"I offer you a choice." Red Skull interrupted their reunion. "Stay here, in this moment, with your daughter, forever trapped in the purgatory, or return to the world you know... in a different form. I can give you a new life, a new beginning—a second chance at everything. But there is a price, of course."

Natasha’s breath hitched. "What's the price? What happened to giving up a soul?"

"You will be reincarnated. Your soul, your essence, will live again in a new body. You’ll be free from the pain of this life and the burden of the past. But you will lose everything you know. You’ll forget this life, your memories, your loved ones—your daughter. You will be someone else."

"So either way, I'd die," Natasha guessed. She licked her lips nervously. "Either way, the people I love will lose me. How is this better than the other deal?"

"Not death, Natasha. Rebirth. A chance to begin again, free from the weight of your past. But yes, in this new life, you will forget. The pain, the grief... and the love. Your soul will live again, but it will be untethered, unburdened by the memories of this life. It will be a clean slate.

"So I get to live again but lose everything I ever cared about? I don’t even get to remember the people I’ve fought for, the ones I’ve sacrificed everything for. You’re telling me to give up my life again?" She shook her head. "I would forget her. I would forget all of them."

"You will gain something more valuable—freedom. You will be someone else, someone better, with no shackles. No more ghosts of the past, no more running. You will be given a chance to make a new path. But there is no turning back once you choose. Once your soul is reborn, it will not remember this moment. You will be free of the pain of your past... but also the joy of those moments, those people."

Natasha swallowed hard, her mind racing. The thought of losing everything she fought for—the memories, the bonds she’s built, especially with her daughter—twisted like a knife in her chest. But the idea of freedom and redemption tempted her in a way she couldn't ignore.

"And if I choose the other way? To stay here, to die for the stone... What’s the difference? Isn’t it all just... an end?" She said quietly to herself.

"The difference is that you remain as you are in this choice. You will stay in this moment, this world, and be trapped in it. Without her. A death without peace, a loss without redemption. The universe will continue without you."

A beat passed as Natasha processed the weight of his words. She wanted to scream, to demand more answers. She wanted to tear through this reality, but all she could do was stare at Stella, her little face looking at her with that innocent, trusting look. That face is the one thing that keeps pulling her heart in two directions—back toward this strange, illusory world where she can hold her daughter or forward toward an unknown fate, a second chance.

"Why would I choose freedom if it means losing everything that made me who I am? What’s the point of living again if I can’t remember why I fought so hard to be here in the first place?" She frowned. "Do they come back? Does Nicky get his mother and his sister?"

"The people you love will remember you. They will mourn you. They will grieve, but they will move on. They will find a way to live without you, and eventually, the wounds will heal. It will not be the same, but there will be peace, eventually."

"I don’t want to forget... I don’t want to forget her. I can’t." Her voice broke. She was crying now.

"You are not choosing to forget her. You are choosing to give her a future. A future where the world is saved, where the people you love have a chance to live. That is the sacrifice you make. The world needs you, Natasha Romanoff, more than your memories."

"And if I choose not to live again? What happens then?"

Red Skull’s gaze sharpened, his voice heavy with the finality of his words.

"Then you will die, and the universe will continue without you."

The reality of his words sank in, a heaviness weighing her down. She was faced with an impossible choice—die and have the possibility of everyone coming back or reincarnating with the same result.

Her fingers traced the outline of her wedding band, the cold metal a reminder of all she had lost.

"Why me?" She asked suddenly. Red Skull looked at her with something close to pity, though it was difficult to read on his stone-like face."Does everyone get this option?"

“No,” he replied, his voice cold but edged with something else—something ancient. “Not everyone. Only those whose actions have carried weight—those whose sacrifices have been… significant. You’ve walked a path of endless struggle. Death has followed you, yet you fight; you sacrifice, again and again, not just for others but for a purpose greater than yourself. It is rare to see such a soul. That is why I offer this choice to you.”

Natasha absorbed his words, her mind racing. Her life had always been a series of choices, but this… this was different. A chance to leave it all behind and be reborn, or to give everything, including herself, to save others.

Her thoughts drifted to Stella, still tucked in her arms, her innocent eyes full of love and trust. Could she really leave this behind? Could she live with the knowledge that the mother her children knew would never return to them?

“Why me?” Natasha repeated, her voice soft but unwavering. “Why offer this to me and not to someone else? There have been countless others who’ve given everything… so why now?”

Red Skull didn't answer immediately, the silence hanging heavily in the air.

Red Skull's gaze softened, just for a moment. “Because you are more than what you think yourself to be. You have been a weapon, a force of destruction, and a beacon of hope. You’ve fought against fate, against what you thought you were destined for. This is your moment to choose what you wish your legacy to be. Either way, you shape your own fate.”

Natasha stood still, her heart thundering. Red Skull waited for her decision. The silence hung heavy between them, thick with the moment's gravity.

Natasha swallowed, her hand tightening into a fist at her side. "And if I choose to leave? To reincarnate—what happens to them? To Clint, to my team… my daughter?"

"They will live," Red Skull said, his voice almost too calm, too sure. "They will carry on, their memories untouched. But you will be gone. Your place in the universe will be filled by someone else."

Natasha closed her eyes, the words weighing heavy on her. It was an impossible decision, one she couldn’t fathom.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't choose."

"Mama," Stella questioned. It seemed she was waiting for an answer, too.

"I'm sorry," Natasha let the tears fall this time. "I'm so sorry, Solnyshko." She whimpered.

Red Skull looked at her, his expression almost sympathetic.

"It is not a choice, Natasha. It is a sacrifice. One you have already made."

"Okay, okay, I'm ready." Natasha breathed. "I'm sorry, baby." She kissed Stella's forehead. She could only hope you would forgive her.

*********

"It was supposed to be me. She sacrificed her life for that goddamn stone. She bet her life on it," Clint ranted. "She jumped, and one of us had to explain this to Nicky."

Thor and Banner exchanged puzzled glances. The tension in the room is thick; Clint’s grief is a raw wound, and their shared loss weighs on everyone. But this—this was something they hadn’t anticipated.

"Who is Nicky?" Bruce questioned.

Clint’s shoulders slumped as if the question's weight was too much. He took a shuddering breath, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Nicky’s her son,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Nat didn’t talk about him much… she didn’t want to endanger him. She kept him safe, hidden, but he’s… he’s still so young.”

“Are you telling us that Nat… that she left behind a child?” Bruce asked gently, his voice filled with concern.

Clint nodded, swallowing hard. “She did it for him, you know. She did it for all of us, for everyone that got snapped. But he was part of that, too. Part of the reason she…” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Thor’s expression shifted from confusion to a deep, somber respect. “A mother’s sacrifice… to protect her child,” he murmured almost reverent.

"Children," Tony supplied.

"What?" Clint looked at Tony.

"There were two children. She had Stella," Tony reminded him. "It was for them. For her wife."

Clint glanced up, anger and anguish flashing in his eyes. “And now he’s alone. She’s gone, and he’s got no one.” His voice cracked as he stumbled over the words. “Who’s going to be there for him? Who’s going to tell him why his mom never came back?”

Bruce placed a comforting hand on Clint’s shoulder, his eyes sincere. “Then we’ll be there for him,” he promised. “If Natasha’s son needs family, he’s got us. Whatever he needs—support, protection, anything.”

Thor nodded firmly, the resolve clear in his gaze. “We owe her that much. And I’ll ensure he knows exactly who his mother was—a warrior, a hero. The bravest among us.”

That landed heavily among all of them.

*********

You'd been appalled when Happy suggested a joint funeral for Tony and Natasha. The idea left a bitter taste in your mouth. A funeral for Natasha—your Natasha—sounded absurd. She wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be. Not her.

You’d spent five years in limbo, caught between one breath and the next, with no awareness of the time passing. One moment, you were home in Missouri, watching your children play in the den, and the next… nothing. It wasn’t like sleep or even unconsciousness. It was as if you simply didn’t exist. And then, just as suddenly, you were back. But the world you returned to had shifted and moved forward in ways you couldn’t yet wrap your mind around.

Nicky had grown so much taller than you remembered. No longer the little boy you’d kissed goodnight, he was older now, with five years of life etched into his features, years you’d missed as his mother. The last time you saw him, he was just one year old, approaching his second birthday, which you'd planned together. Now, at eight, he was still small but no longer the toddler you had once held in your arms.

In some ways, he was a stranger, a person with a life outside your knowledge. You missed five years of his life.

And now, with no warning, the universe had ripped away the only constant in your life.

It didn't make sense. The universe had brought you back only to take her away. She couldn't be gone.

So you refused the funeral. It was a denial, an attempt to reject the reality thrust upon you. You didn’t need a funeral for someone who wasn't dead. She would come home. You wouldn't bury an empty casket.

And then you looked at your children—two pieces of your heart, tethering you to a reality you could hardly stand. You wanted to honor Natasha, for them, if nothing else. None of this made sense. None of it felt right. But you knew you had to push forward.

That morning, you dressed them with shaking hands, pausing often to steady yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot from a night spent wrestling with grief, exhaustion, and disbelief. You’d barely slept, remembering Natasha and the impossible circumstances that had brought you here. But for Nicky and Stella, you had to keep going.

They sat before you now in Tony’s lake house, their small, trusting faces watching you closely. Everyone else was waiting downstairs—the Avengers, friends from all over, people whose lives she had touched. But before you joined them, you needed this quiet moment with your children to prepare them for the hardest goodbye any of you had ever faced.

"It's time for us to say goodbye to Mama," You breathed. You took both of their hands and kissed each of them. "I know we don't want to. This is the last thing I want to do, but..."

Stella was staring at her feet, a sullen, pained look on her face.

"It's going to be hard. I'm gonna miss her, too," You told him. "But we're gonna get through it. We're gonna be okay."

You turned to Nicky. He was watching you, his face serious. He'd been quiet all morning, barely speaking. He'd lost both parents at different periods of his life. He didn't know what to make of the idea that this was his reality.

"Do you have questions?" You asked him. "About anything?"

"Is Mama... is she coming back?"

You took a deep breath. "No, Nicky. She's not."

He looked down at his shoes, his little eyebrows drawn together. You wanted to hold him and make the pain disappear, but you couldn't. He barely knew you. It would take more than the days you'd known each other for him to trust you. The Snap had taken that bond away from you.

"We'll always remember her. And she'll never forget us," You promised. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said softly.

You looked at Stella. She was probably so confused. You tugged at the skirt of her dress to get her attention.

"Baby, you alright?" You asked.

"Mama's not dead," She cried. "Why is Mama dead?"

Your heart broke into a million pieces.

"Oh, baby." You knelt and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I wish she were here."

"Where is she?"

"She's in heaven. She's with Grandma and Pop-Pop. They're taking care of her."

"But why?" Her lip trembled. It was in that way that always broke your heart.

"The world was a very bad place, and she sacrificed herself to fix it. She was a hero. She saved everyone, including you and Nicky."

"But why does that mean Mama's gone? Why can't she stay?"

You tried to blink away the tears forming.

"Sometimes things happen, and there's no reason, no logic. Sometimes, people leave, and we can't understand why."

"I want Mama. I don't want her to go," Stella's eyes watered. "Please."

"I know, baby. I know. So do I. I'm so sorry."

Stella leaned her head against your chest, her body shaking as she cried. You ran your hand through her hair and held her close, willing your warmth to be enough for the both of you.

Neihter of you were ready but it was something you had to do.

*********

Walking out of the lake house behind Pepper, Morgan, and Peter felt overwhelmed. It felt so wrong. There was no way Natasha was gone. You wanted to turn and run, find a way out of this reality, this nightmare. You scanned the crowd, noticing familiar faces and others you'd only ever heard about through Natasha’s stories—a reminder of the secrecy you had kept to protect your family.

Clint and Laura met your eyes, offering quiet support, and you gave them a faint, shaky smile in return. Nicky clung tightly to your hand, his other hand holding a small bundle of Natasha’s favorite flowers. You adjusted Stella on your hip, feeling the weight of her tiny arms wrapped around you, grounding you in this surreal moment.

As you stepped closer to the water's edge, you noticed the questioning looks of some of the people gathered there. They didn’t know who you were; they didn’t know Natasha’s family had quietly existed all this time. Ignoring the stares, you focused on what you came here to do, offering Natasha this final act of love.

Pepper placed her flowers gently on the water, a quiet tribute to Tony. Then, with a soft nudge, you guided Nicky forward. He stepped up, his small fingers trembling as he let the flowers slip into the lake. Nicky's dog, Ollie, had darted out of the house and now pressed his nose against Nicky's hand, sensing the boy’s sadness.

"Goodbye, Tony," he said softly, his eyes shining with tears. "Goodbye, Mama."

Pepper reached for him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Then she did the same for you and Stella, her expression solemn.

"Bye, Tony," Stella murmured, her face pressed against your chest. "Bye-bye, Mama."

Stella didn't know him. She didn't have memories of Tony, but she felt compelled to follow in her brother's steps.

You listened as Pepper began speaking, sharing memories of Tony and words of remembrance. You held it together, swallowing back the ache in your chest as her voice wavered over the water. She looked at you when she finished, nodding gently—it was your turn.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, holding Stella close, and faced the gathering.

"Natasha is..." You breathed. That wasn't right. "Natasha was my wife." You began. "She was a wife and a mother." You looked down at Nicky's proud eyes. "She loved harder than anyone I'd ever known. She was kind and strong and loyal."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"But above all, she was brave. She was the bravest woman I'd ever met. And we will miss her. Every day. Every second. We will carry her memory with us." You sighed. "For eight long years, Natasha was my rock. Long before then, she was my everything. She gave me two beautiful children. Two amazing little humans who made every moment worth it. They remind me so much of her. A lot of you never knew about me. Never knew about us. It was better that way. Our own little secret. This family was something only we knew."

"But I'm telling you now because... If anyone needs to know about Natasha and how incredible she was, it's the people here. You knew her better than anyone. You've shared her battles, her victories. She was part of your family. So, for everyone who's not part of mine, let me share it with you. Let me tell you about her." You continued. You felt stronger the more you talked. "Having a person makes life easier to live. Having Natasha made my life so much better. She was the best thing that ever happened to me."

You felt a tear slide down your cheek. "Natasha and I didn't meet under ideal circumstances. She was a spy, and I was an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. We worked together on missions. Eventually, those late nights turned into something more. I was lucky enough to know her as a teammate. Later, I got to see the other side of her, the one only a few people knew. She was a good person. One of the best."

Your eyes found Clint's, and he nodded in understanding. He was the one who'd first introduced you.

"It wasn't always easy. Life never is. There were times when it was difficult. Hard choices, difficult sacrifices. But she always made sure to make things right, no matter what it cost her."

You wiped away a stray tear and took a shuddering breath.

"We will never forget her. Not a day will go by when I don't think about her. Her sacrifice will be felt for generations." You sniffed. "I can't promise I won't spend every waking moment wishing she were here. Wishing I could kiss her or hold her or hear her voice one more time. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure our children never forget her. She deserved better. A long, happy life. A future with all of us."

The dam burst, and you held back a sob. Pepper's soothing hand rubbed your back. She felt this grief, too.

"But if there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that sometimes things just don't go the way we plan. And that's okay. We'll figure out how to move forward without her. We'll carry her in our hearts and minds and keep living the best lives we can."

*********

It had been three weeks of slowly packing away Natasha’s life, boxing up memories and fragments of her identity. Clearing out her apartment felt surreal; each item you wrapped and labeled was a bittersweet reminder. The decision to move Nicky away from his childhood home had been hard, but you knew it was time for a fresh start, somewhere the kids could grow and heal.

At precisely 8 a.m., the moving truck pulled up, ready to transport everything to your new brownstone. Natasha’s SUV idled in the street as you trailed behind the movers, the last piece you had yet to part with. It wasn’t as if you needed it in New York, but something about selling it felt too final, like letting go of another piece of her.

You ran a hand along the dashboard, the smell of Natasha still lingering, even after all this time. Going back to Missouri felt even harder—that was the home you had chosen together. You’d have to make the trip eventually to pack it up, but the thought alone made your chest tighten.

Lost in thought, you were brought back to reality by a voice from the backseat.

“No, I’m the big sister!” Stella was arguing, her voice firm with a tiny pout on her face.

You turned around, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Stella, honey, you’re not the big sister anymore. Nicky’s older than you.”

Stella scrunched her nose in defiance. “But I feel like the big sister!”

You laughed softly. “I know, sweetie. But it doesn’t work that way.”

Before she could fire back with more questions, something outside caught her attention. “Look, Mama! Another moving truck!”

You saw the large truck parked halfway across the road, its bulk blocking your path. Irritated but resigned, you parked Natasha’s SUV and climbed out, hoping to get them to move just enough so you could pass.

"Excuse me, I have a m—" you started to say but stopped. Your breath caught in your throat, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine.

The movers were busy unloading furniture and boxes into the back of the truck, oblivious to your sudden stillness. You watched them work, your heartbeat growing louder, filling your ears. As you approached, a woman stepped out beside the truck, brushing her hands off her jeans. She had blonde hair that shimmered in the sunlight and sharp green eyes that locked onto yours. There was something vaguely familiar about her, though you couldn’t quite place it.

“Hey there! Sorry about the truck blocking the way. I was just helping unload,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’m Kelly. Just moving in next door.”

You introduced yourself, feeling a slight tug of recognition but pushing it aside. “Nice to meet you, Kelly. We’re actually moving in too. Guess we’re going to be neighbors. Where are you moving from?"

"Nebraska," Kelly nodded. "I'm a doctor. I wanted a bit of change. For some reason, I felt drawn to New York, so now I'm here."

You gave her a tight smile, wondering why her voice sounded so familiar. "Well, welcome to the neighborhood. I hope you enjoy it here. We'd love to have you over for dinner once we get settled. "

Kelly's smile widened, her gaze turning almost hopeful. "I'd like that."

fin

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #afamilyofherownau

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pemebi · 8 months ago

Text

I wanted to continue with the others Aus but my brain is mean.

Is all fault of the Testament clothes. (I feel a bit cringe but eh, what's else is new)

I'm not using Google Translate but I want to see if Grammarly helps

The general idea is that Shinichi (and all the Kudo family) are part of the black organization, Yuzaku is ok with it, Yukiko is not (Even if Yukiko acts like besties with Vermouth, she can't wait to leave everything)

Shinichi and Haibara are friends and want to leave the organization too, but don't dare to do so.

Shinichi clothes are supposed to be a bastardized version of the Night Baron, he could use the "properly accurate clothes" but is his form of teenage rebellion, He knows Yuzaku hates it.

Kaito became aware of Shinichi because he noticed a dark figure watching his latest heists, he was creeped out so decided to confront them

So, Kaito discovers that the dark figure is a critic/fan, Kaito is a bit wary, but a bit smitten too, because Shinichi seems very happy with his deduction show.

So, after every Kaito Kid heist, they talked a little and with time, they became friends.

Shinichi has his own nocturne work, he doesn't share the specifics with Kaito Kid, only saying that he steals too, but not because he wants to do so.

One night Shinichi doesn't appear

Next heist he appears sad, the missions he is getting are escalating in difficulty and are pressuring him into stealing things "that are impossible to return"

Kaito gets the hint

"Run away"

"To where? isn't like the thought hasn't crossed my mind..."

"Let me help you!"

"I don't want your help in this life"

--------------

Shinichi disappears

--------------

One day, Two kids are in front of Kuroba Kaito house.

#dcmk #shinichi kudo #kuroba kaito #kaishin #PemebiArt

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noparadiseinthis · 4 months ago

Text

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Series: Come away, O human child! Part 2:

She dreamed of paradise

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Read part 1 here.

Warnings: explicit domestic violence and abusive relationships. Descriptions of physical violence. Reader is married and has a child.

Summary: Spencer sees a mark on you. He decides that if no one is going to do anything about it, then he will. If only he can convince you to accept help.

Steve was strangely calm on the way home. He had asked the sheriff for permission to take you and Willy away during his lunch break with the excuse that he was worried about the disappearance of women that had been happening in town, just like an ideal husband, but you knew the real reason, he wanted to keep an eye on you.

"Well?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at you.

You knew it was best to let him speak first, so you waited for Steve to start, no matter how tense you were.

"The FBI guy, what did he want?"

"Nothing much, he was just playing with Will, he knew magic tricks."

You didn't mention the terror you felt when you saw that your son wasn't by your side, he could never relate to that, he could never understand the deep emptiness that existed inside you when Will wasn't around. He was all the light you needed.

"And you let some stranger talk to our son? I can't leave you two alone anyway."

Sometimes you didn't quite understand Steve's intentions, even though you knew there was a reason behind everything.

"He's FBI, isn't he?"

It was a risky move, rebutting what he was saying. Luckily for you, it seemed to be a good day, because he did nothing but raise an eyebrow and snort.

"I don't want you two anywhere near that guy."

You just nodded, distracted as you wondered what was so special about Dr. Reid that Steve reacted like that, your curiosity piqued. Was he trying to push you away from one more person before any bonding had even begun? Surely he couldn't have been afraid that you would turn him in since you had already understood a long time ago that no one would help you or even give you a second glance. If I could go back in time, I would have run as soon as Steve showed interest in joining the police. A bunch of conniving vibrators, they were.

"We'll never see him again," you reassured him.

"Well," your husband muttered, "you know why I do it. I have to protect my family."

With a silly, fake smile on your face, you agreed as you stroked his arm, looking through the rearview mirror at Will sleeping in the back seat. You could do this for another 13 years, right? Just hang in there.

•••

Spencer gathered his things from the table, putting them in his bag as he prepared to go to the hotel, hoping to get a good night's sleep and work with more focus and renewed vigor the next day. He spent the rest of the day reliving his interaction with you down to the smallest detail, remembering and recalling her tone of voice, her posture, and her submission when her husband appeared. If was right, his name was Steve.

The policeman in question left the police station for an hour and returned soon after, casting long glances at Spencer, none like yours, who followed him to his hotel room, until he laid his head on the pillow and far beyond that, invading his dreams.

•••

5 days in the same city was a lot on the Spencer scale. Enough to make the UNSUB profile, but not enough to capture him. He lived in the shadows, preying on the most vulnerable people in that small, broken society that was your little town: the women. More specifically, the housewives. Spencer spent these days wondering if you had any job.

"What the hell?" He heard Morgan's voice exclaim with surprise, raising her head to look at the source. That's when spotted William, wandering around outside the glass-walled room they were in. The boy walked between the tables as if he belonged there, but stood out from his surroundings. "Who is he?"

"Cop Steve's son." Spencer murmured, attracting the attention of his colleagues.

"Do you know him? How?" JJ asked.

Spencer shrugged. "Kids like magic. He came here a few days ago, must have run away from his mom again. I thought Morgan had seen him before."

"Well, I didn't see. There's something strange about that boy's father-" Turning away as he spoke, Derek was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and a child's voice shouting happily.

"Dr. Reid!"

As if it were second nature, Spencer rose from his seat to kneel in front of the child and greeted him back with a smile.

"Hey, Willy," he held up his open palm, which made the boy laugh and high-fived him, "What are you doing here, kid?"

"Mom came to bring Dad's lunch again, but I wanted to see you."

Spencer sighed with an understanding smile, looking around at his classmates who stared rather shocked at their very natural interaction.

"And does your mom know you're with me?"

The look he shifted to the floor said everything the doctor needed to know.

"You can't just disappear, young man. Do you know where she is?"

Will nodded. "In the big room with Daddy."

Spencer looked at Hotch, who understood immediately and sighed tiredly before nodding and nodding towards the door, permitting him to leave.

"Let's find her then, shall we?"

William walked out hand in hand with the man, leaving Spencer shocked that a policeman's son was so ill-educated, regardless of his age. Children could be sociable. They should be. That didn't exclude all the evil that lurked outside the house - or inside - the boy seemed the pure image of naivety. Worrying. He couldn't tell you why he cared so much.

"So, Willy, why did you split up with Mom? You heard what she said, she gets worried when you disappear like that."

"Because they were starting over."

"Starting what?" Reid asked, frowning and looking down to see the child's face, who didn't answer. "Starting what, William?" he asked again.

•••

"How did you manage to lose sight of him? For God's sake, this is a police station!" Steve exclaimed furiously, although he growled quietly. He didn't believe in announcing his problems to the world.

"I let go of his hand for a second and he disappeared!" You retorted, your eyes watering as you thought about what he could have gotten himself into this time. "It's not my fault," you continued, hugging your body as if trying to convince yourself.

Your husband snorted, scorn appearing on his face as he approached, and suddenly any courage you had was thrown out of the window. You looked around, at the walls that gave you so little privacy. We're in public, you thought, like a mantra. He didn't do anything in public. He didn't do anything in public. He grabbed your arm. Moreover, his nails dug in, forcing and tearing at your skin as his instinct acted and tried to pull your arm back, but he held back. As he always did. Apart from the pain, all you could think about was what a bad idea it was to wear short sleeves that day.

"What good are you anyway, if you can't even look after my son properly?"

Your eyes were injected with rage and you swallowed, watching the face of the man you once thought would make you the happiest woman in the world. The man who promised you the world while hugging you in a college dormitory bathroom and holding a pregnancy test with a small smile on his face. Eyes crinkled with joy as he stroked your still flat belly and whispered such sweet things. A time when you thought you could face anything as long as you had him by your side. You no longer saw any of that in the man in front of you. He ripped any last shred of hope from your cold, dead hands and then made you dig your own emotional grave, as deep as his nails could go into your skin. You barely felt the pain anymore. You didn't even feel anything, until you heard the familiar voice of the light of your life, pulling you out of that dark pit as it always did.

Quickly, Steve retracted his arm, taking a deep breath and swallowing as he turned to where he had heard his son's voice, his nostrils flaring as he saw who was with him.

•••

Spencer never got a verbal answer to his question from William, but he didn't need one. The scene in front of him said it all, and from the way the boy squeezed his hand tighter, he could tell that Will knew there was something wrong between his parents. Fortunately, the boy was too short to have the same field of vision as Reid. Luckily, he hadn't seen the terrified look on his mother's face, let alone his father's aggressive grip.

Will shouting "Mommy" and letting go of your hand to run to you provided him with a new horizon. It brought back memories. That of trying to be a mediator within a broken family, even in childhood.

•••

Steve never spent much time around William anyway, so when he left quickly, you didn't mind, you were relieved. Noticing that Dr. Reid wasn't going to move away, you sighed, hiding the nail mark against your own body as you watched him enter the room you were in.

"Hey, honey, want to play a little?" you asked, taking your cell phone out of your pocket and handing it to your son, who quickly agreed and went to the corner of the 'big room', as he called it, oblivious to the rest of the world.

"I never knew your name."

You snorted, wondering how that was the first thing he chose to say, but in the end, he did say your name.

"You don't have to hide it, I've already seen it." Spencer continued, making sure to speak quietly so that the child wouldn't hear them and to keep the anger out of his voice.

You swallowed, wondering what you had done to deserve two humiliations in a row on the same day, trying to force yourself to remain calm and expressionless, assessing how much of a risk the mysterious doctor could be to you or your child.

"I'm sorry about William again today, it'll never happen again."

Spencer couldn't stop himself from analyzing you, and what he saw brought him the most mixed emotions. You were profiling him too. You are a profiler for survival, someone who needs to know how to act in every situation so as not to get hurt. It made your head spin, your throat dry and your hands twitch. "It's called empathy. Use it to be a better person," Derek once told him.

"You know this is a crime; I can arrest him right now if you want; this room has cameras, and you're... you're hurt."

To his surprise, you laughed in his face. A bitter laugh. The kind he wished you'd never hear again.

"Are you an idiot, Dr. Reid?" you asked, without any humor. "Is that how you sleep best at night? Look around you, see where we are. In a police station full of men. Do you think you're the first to see something like that in me?"

Suddenly, it was as if a dam broke and you felt the uncontrollable urge to channel all your anger at Dr. Spencer Reid, pointing at the wound on his arm, the little blood already dried. This made the agent sigh. He had never really been able to understand how someone could hurt a person they had sworn to love so deeply.

"Well, the FBI wasn't here before."

You just sighed, pressing your lips together to stop a torrent of tears. He would never know that fear like you did. Even if Steve was still arrested, what would you do next? How would you be able to raise your son in a place like this, where your husband was the model citizen of the city and you were the bitch who put him in prison?

"You just don't understand. Please go away, Dr. Reid."

Go away, and don't you dare even try to give me false hope because I killed them all for my own good a long time ago, you thought.

Spencer couldn't accept that it would end like this. There had to be something, there had to be a way. Not for the first time in his life, he thought that people should come with a manual. It was time to do your job, even if you felt terrible about using your weakness against yourself.

"And is it worth it? Raising a child in such an environment?"

"I've managed to keep Will away for five years. So as long as he's safe, yes, it's worth it," you replied, your back to him.

Spencer sighed, squeezing his thigh as he cursed himself for influencing you like that. All for the greater good.

"Except that he already knows. Kids are a lot more observant than people think."

You turned like lightning.

"What are you talking about?"

You couldn't. You couldn't lose the only certainty you had in life. That Will was your sea of positivity, away from everything that was really going on at home, growing up happily, without any resentment. You swore that when he was born. It was the only promise it would kill you to break.

Spencer hated being the cause of the look of terror on his face this time, but like all the other times in his life when it was necessary, he took courage and started telling.

Taglist (if you want in or out, just let me know):

@yokaimoon @fanfic-viewer

A/n: I was wonderfully surprised by how well received the first part was. I hope you enjoy the second as much. Thank you for your support

#angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

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cupidisaliar · 5 months ago

Text

Bound by infinity pt 2🪽

- hope you guys like it 🥹

-pt 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/cupidisaliar/751313995108122624/bound-by-infinity

warnings uhm: 2 swear words? gojo is kinda possessive and he grabs ur face. grammar might be weird grammarly is tweaking on my phone. sorry this is late :(

When you wake up, the morning dawn’s light holds your face as it rises from the horizon.

The feeling in your gut is still there, not butterflies.

Moths.

Everything feels heavy, and you don't wanna get out of bed.

Your eyes are red when you look in the mirror.

You can vaguely recall a strange dream. You found yourself trapped in a chaotic realm. Strange shapes and colours blurred your vision. You've never had a dream like that before.

As you prepare for the day the memory of your dream slowly fades away.

You have to push yourself further during training today... You are only a grade-four sorcerer. Even though you can get past Gojo’s infinity..you are still weak.

Heavy with the burden in your mind you leave the dorm and head to the training grounds. You ignore the hunger pangs, you are too anxious to eat breakfast. The sounds of the other sorcerers fill the humid air.

It’s too early for this…4 am to be exact.

You sit on the bench and chug water to push the hunger away.

“You ready?” a voice calls you to attention.

It’s Yuji.

“Yeah..” you nod. He always seems so happy to see you. You look at the others. Everyone seems to tolerate you, Panda, Toge, Nobara… save for Maki and Megumi… you don’t know why.

You like to think that you are close to Nobara and Yuji.

Yuji looks as eager as ever, he is a walking ray of sunshine. He notices your uneasy glance at the other sorcerers. “Hey now…don’t worry about it. We all started somewhere. Just do your best y/n.” He says with a thumbs up. Yuji’s uplifting words ease your nerves slightly, you feel grateful to have a friend like him.

You smile back at him. You see Megumi glance at the two of you but he doesn’t acknowledge your presence. You take a deep breath and stand up. It’s time to train.

You brush yourself off as you and Yuji head to the grass. You catch Megumi’s gaze and he slightly glares you before turning away.

“Uh don’t mind him..he’s always like that,” he remarks.

“So what are we doing today?” You ask.

Yuji leads the way to a row of dummies. “Today, we are all working on our cursed energy control.” He gestures to the dummies. “We are focusing on channelling are cursed energy at a specific point.”

“I feel like I don’t have a lot of cursed energy.” You confess to him, shoving your hands in your pockets.

Yuji looks back at you with a cheerful smile. “Hey, don't worry!” He reassures. “It's not about how much cursed energy you have; it's about how you use it. You can do it!”

He stops and you follow suit.

Then, he points to the first dummy. “See that?” He asks

“Yeah..” you nod, looking at the dummy.

“Now... I want you to focus on the dummy. Think about where you want to send your cursed energy. Then use that energy.” Yuji explains

You hold your hand out to concentrate.

Nobara strolls in, a small smile on her face. "Hey you two, ready for some intense training today?" she says with a mischievous gleam in her eye

"Of course! " you smile. Nobara is so badass

Nobara chuckles at your enthusiasm and gives you a playful nudge.

"That's the spirit! Now let's show these dummies who's boss." She and Yuji high-five before walking to the side of you.

You glance back at Megumi. You can't help but wonder why he resents you. It's distracting you.

As you glance back at Megumi, he's focused on his own training, paying no attention to you or anyone else.

Nobara notices your glance and leans towards you, lowering her voice. "Someone’s moody" she quips

You chuckle and you turn your attention back to your training. You channel your cursed energy, concentrating on the technique and aiming for the dummy with precision. Each blow you land on the dummy feels a bit stronger, and you feel a sense of achievement each time you manage to hit with more force than before.

You decide to funnel your cursed energy into a blade and hit the dummy.

Suddenly it shatters into a fine powder. You step back shocked.

Yuji and Nobara are startled by the sudden shattering of the dummy. They turn their attention towards you, surprise evident on their faces. "Wow, that was intense!" Nobara exclaims, clearly impressed by the surge of power you showed. "Nice job,Y’N!" Yuji adds with a smile, genuine excitement in his voice.

You can’t help but look at Megumi again. “Thanks, guys..” you mumble.

Nobara glances towards Megumi too, and she lets out a small laugh as she notices his reaction. "Looks like you've impressed our resident grump" she teases, and you notice that Megumi averts his gaze as if trying to hide his surprise. "Seriously though, that was something else." she says with a smile.

“I don’t know what happened…” You confess

Nobara grins, noticing your confusion. "It seems like you tapped into your cursed energy in like – a really powerful way." Yuji chimes in, impressed by your display of power. Megumi, still keeping his distance, watches you with a hint of curiosity in his eyes. You can tell that he's trying to figure out how you managed to unleash such a powerful technique

“I’m gonna take a break, I’m gonna head to the vending machines!” You say, rubbing your shoulder.

Nobara and Yuji nod in agreement. As you walk towards the vending machine, you sense Megumi following you from a distance. His reluctance to interact directly with you becomes even more apparent. Once you reach the vending machine, you notice Megumi lurking nearby, seemingly disinterested but still watching you.

“You go first… I’m still deciding…” You explain, stepping away from the machine

Megumi steps forward, hesitating for a moment before inserting some coins into the vending machine and selecting a drink. He grabs the drink from the machine and hands it to you. "Here," he mutters, looking away from you.

Feeling surprised but appreciative of his gesture, you hesitate before you reach out and take the drink from him. "Thank you," you say softly, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment before he turns away. His actions were unexpected, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze that caught your attention.

You look down at the drink for a second.

Iced tea.

“Wait!” You turn to him.

Megumi’s pace falters at the sound of your voice calling out to him. He turns around, a hint of surprise etched on his features. "What?" *he asks, his tone somewhat guarded.

“Do…do you hate me?” You realize how embarrassing saying that is out loud.

Megumi lets out a long sigh, avoiding your gaze as he speaks. "Look, I don't hate you. I just...I have my reasons for keeping my distance" he says, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "It's got nothing to do with you, really. I'm just not exactly a social butterfly, you know?" he adds, a touch of sarcasm lacing his words.

“Well whatever it is…I think…we could be great friends that’s all… “ You stare at your feet. Awkward…

Megumi pauses for a moment, and then he lets out a small chuckle. "You're persistent, I'll give you that." he says, his tone softening slightly. "Listen, I... I apologize for being standoffish. It's not personal, it's just the way I am." he says, his gaze meeting yours for a moment before he looks away again. "But if you're determined to be friends, then I guess I can try, too." his words are laced with reluctance, but you can sense a glimmer of warmth in his voice.

You decide to play it cool.

“Yeah.. sounds good” you shrug.

Megumi eyes you as you try to play it cool, a hint of a smirk on his face. "Don’t get used to it," he says, but his tone lacks its usual biting edge. There's a hint of playfulness in his voice now, and you get the feeling that he’s starting to warm up to you, albeit reluctantly.

You smile back and watch him walk away.

Megumi glances back once more, catching your smile as he walks away. He gives a nod, a sign of understanding and reluctant acceptance. As he continues on his way, you notice that his shoulders are less tense, and there’s a slight change in his demeanour. It seems like he's starting to let his guard down around you, little by little.

You haven't seen Gojo... you should talk to him.

As you glance around, you realize that Gojo has been conspicuously absent for training. The thought of talking to him sparks curiosity in you, and you decide to go in search of him.

You have no idea where to start you just absentmindedly wander the halls. Lost in thought, when suddenly you hear a familiar voice echo down the hallway. "Yo, you looking for me?" You turn to see Gojo leaning against a wall nearby, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Oh hey! Yeah, I am!” you call out to him walking to him.

Gojo pushes himself off the wall hands in his pockets, strolling towards you with a casual gait. "What's up? You look like you have something on your mind." he asks, his eyes studying you intently.

“Uhm...about yesterday…” you start

Gojo's smile widens, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Ahh, about yesterday. What about it?" he asks, clearly intrigued by your hesitation.

“I don't know... I just thought we should talk about it…” you mumble, wanting to ask how he's feeling without asking how he's feeling

Gojo raises an eyebrow, his expression betraying a hint of surprise.

"Talk about it, huh?" he says, his tone laced with a touch of curiosity. "Alright, let's talk. But first, what do you want to know?"

You look off to the side “Uhmmm. any recent thoughts on the matter?” you say casually. Like you’re discussing the weather.

Gojo lets out a huff of laughter, amused by your attempt to be subtle.

He steps closer to you, towering over you with his tall stature.

"Thoughts, hm?" he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice "Well, they've been plentiful, I can tell you that. But are you really interested in my thoughts?"

“Yes!” you blurt out exasperated “I..I hope it doesn't distress you... not that it shouldn't... it would distress me if I was– am the strongest and…” your mind departs your train of thought.

Gojo chuckles at your outburst, clearly amused by your eagerness. He leans in a bit closer, studying you intently. "You're worried about me, huh?" he says, a slight smirk on his lips. "You know, it's sweet but a little misplaced. I'm not exactly your typical person who gets distressed...not easily, anyway."

You just look at him. He can’t be serious.

Gojo's smirk deepens as he looks into your eyes. He can sense that there's more you want to say but are holding back. "You're curious," he states bluntly, his voice soft but authoritative. "You have questions, so ask them. Don't be shy."

“...really?” You ask.

Gojo chuckles again, clearly enjoying this exchange. "Of course, really," he says, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. "Ask me anything. I'll give you straight answers...probably."

You scrunch your face up, even in a stressful moment he’s unbelievably cocky.

“Okay.... well....are you trying to figure out a way to prevent me from stopping infinity or are you just trying to figure out how I'm doing it?” You hold your hands out as if to show him the options.

Gojo's amused expression doesn't waver. He tilts his head, contemplating your question for a moment before responding. "So, you want to know what my next moves are, huh?" he says, his tone laced with a hint of curiosity. "Alright, I'll give you a straight answer. I'm figuring out both. How you're doing it, yes, but also how to prevent you from doing it."

“Okay…” you sigh... You aren’t sure whether to be relieved or not.

Gojo senses your slight disappointment at his response. "What, did you expect something else?" he teases, a smirk playing on his lips. "Did you think I'd just give up and let you do whatever you want?"

“...no?” An obvious lie on your part. You don’t seem to be good at hiding things from him.

Gojo's smirk widens, and he leans in a bit closer. "You're lying," he states bluntly, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "I can tell. But I'll humour you. You didn't expect me to just..give up, but...you hoped I'd have something more...reassuring to say, didn't you?"

You do.

“No.” You reply.

Gojo leans in even closer, his eyes still locked on yours, a hint of mischief in them. "Liar," he says again, his voice a low rumble. "You can't fool me. You wanted me to say something that would ease your worries, something that would reassure you...but I'm not the reassuring type. Sorry to disappoint."

“Well are you going to tell the higher-ups, surely–”

Gojo's smirk turns into a frown at the mention of the higher-ups. "You mean the old geezers up top? Why the hell would I tell them anything?" he asks, his voice laced with disdain as he cuts you off.

“Oh...maybe they could help...?” You cross your arms.

Gojo scoffs, clearly not interested in involving the higher-ups in this matter. "Help? Hah. Those senile old fools wouldn't know how to help if their lives depended on it. They couldn't handle something like this. And they definitely wouldn't appreciate your...unique ability."

“I see…” You think

Gojo crosses his arms, subconsciously copying your body language, his expression turning serious. "If the higher-ups found out about you and your abilities, they'd probably see you as a threat. They'd want to experiment on you, study you, see what they could do with your power. And they'd probably lock you up somewhere, never to see the light of day again. Trust me, you don't want to get them involved."

“...” You open your mouth for a rebuttal but you can’t think of anything.

Gojo's expression softens a bit as he realizes the serious nature of the situation. He steps closer to you, his voice quieter. "You're powerful, there's no doubt about that. But the higher-ups...they wouldn't see it the way I do. They wouldn't see it as a valuable weapon to be honed, they'd see it as a liability, something to be controlled. You don't want that, trust me."

You nod…

Do you trust him?

Gojo watches your reaction, his gaze studying your face intently. There's a hint of something flickering in his eyes, a mix of protectiveness and possessiveness. He steps even closer, towering over you. "You trust me, don't you?" he asks, his voice low and serious.

You nod again, quicker this time

“Of course sensei!”

Gojo's expression softens at your response, a small smile forming on his lips. He reaches out and places a hand on your cheek, his touch firm yet oddly comforting. "Good," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Then you need to understand something. I won't let anyone hurt you. Not the higher-ups, not your fellow students, and certainly not any curses that come crawling out of hell."

That’s offensive… he knows you can fight right?

“I can fight... Ill be okay…” you reassure him.

Gojo scoffs, his grip on your face tightening slightly. "You can fight, I know that. But sometimes, even the strongest fighters need a bit of backup, someone to watch their back and make sure they don't bite off more than they can chew."

You push his hand off your face. “ You won't always be there…” you frown.

This is all so overwhelming.

Gojo's smile falters slightly as you push his hand away. A flicker of annoyance passes over his face, but he quickly composes himself. "Maybe, maybe not," he admits, his voice cool and calculated. "But what happens when I'm not there? When you're facing something bigger than you can handle, and there's nobody around to save you? You might be talented Y/N, but talent alone won't keep you alive forever."

“I'll manage... “ You scoff.

This is starting to get really overwhelming. You start to walk away Gojo is irritating you right now.

Gojo's eyes narrow as you begin to walk away. He steps in front of you, blocking your path, a hint of irritation in his voice as well. "You'll manage, huh? You think you can handle whatever comes your way, all on your own?"

You look up at him and shrug. “I'm just like every other student! I'll be fine!”

Gojo scoffs, clearly not amused by your nonchalant attitude. "You're not like every other student. You're special, and you know it. That power of yours...it sets you apart, whether you want it to or not. So don't go around pretending like you're just another face in the crowd."

“Like you? You think I'm like you is that what it is?” You point a finger at him.

Gojo's expression darkens, his eyes narrowing at your accusation. He steps forward, looming over you, his voice low and dangerous. "No. I don't think you're like me. You're far more powerful than I ever was at your age. That's what worries me. You're a ticking time bomb, and if you don't learn to control that power of yours, it's going to explode and take you down with it. And I'm not going to let that happen."

This is all to much!

You need to get him away.

You go to shove Gojo, extending both your arms.

His infinity stops you.

You start to push hard.

You feel pressure releasing like a balloon.

The colours of the rainbow and light erupt from where your hands are. Hues of blue, red, white, and purple swirl around you.

It’s beautiful.

Gojo's mouth opens slightly.

Then a slow, small smile reaches his face.

It pops. His infinity is gone.

Your hands now touch the fabric of his shirt.

It’s quiet now, for a moment. Just like how it was yesterday when it happened the very first time.

“Now now,” Gojo starts “That wasn’t very polite” Gojo looks amused.

You just stand there, touching the fabric of his uniform.

You feel the familiar presence of someone behind you. You turn your head…

It’s Megumi.

Fuck.

“Well, this just got interesting…” Gojo says, as he softly grabs your wrists.

Megumi is completely shocked mouth agape.

Just your luck huh?

#gojo x student reader #gojo x student #jjk gojo #yandere gojo #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo angst #cupidisaliar

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getyourdirtyhandsoffme · 11 months ago

Note

Hi :) If you don't mind, could you do a SKZ Han fic about Han finding out male reader is transgender (ftm). Ofc I understand if you can't, but I really appreciate it!

‎ AUTHOR: I'm so happy, this is my first request and of course I don't mind making transgender stories, as I am a TransMan myself, I would love to do this! Thank you for requesting and I hope this story is in your expectations along with joy!

"MISUNDERSTANDING."

GENDER: FTM READER

SCENARIO: Idol Han + College Student Reader

GENRE(S): Comedy, fluff, A bit angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending

DYSPHORIA WARNING(S): Dead name mentioned a few times, dysphoria, feminine words/terms, and Mention the word "Pretty girl"

OTHER WARNING(S): Misunderstanding, mentions of 'Cheating' (in a more misunderstanding), Reader going throughout a breakdown and anxiety along with Jisung, mentions of crying, argument. Mentions of the words like "Cut" but not in $ucidal way. Scissors. Shouting and swearing.

Please like, comment or/and reblog! Thank you!

(I didn't really proof read or ask grammarly to fix my grammar so we just have to hope for the best!)

You hate it.

You hate the way you look.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, grabbing a fist of your long hair, you hated how it made you look too feminine.

You wanted to cut it but you fear how he would react to it.

You let go of your hair as you just tied into a bun, making it at least look like you have short hair.

You didn't want to keep it a secret to him, you loved him. He always made you laugh and always supported your careers. You even know he supported the community however, you knew he was straight.

So, you stay hidden as a 'woman' for 9 months just for him.

You were scared to lose him.

You were so lost in thought you almost didn't hear the name calling and knocking from the bathroom door.

"(Dead name)! Are you alright? You are taking so long, the popcorn is about to get cold."

(Dead name). You don't go by that name anymore, you never wanted to have that name in the first place.

Your eyes stared at the bathroom door, sighing as you walked to the door, unlocking it. You were face to face with your boyfriend, Jisung.

"Hey, baby." You responded kinda dry, trying your best to smile at him.

He looked at you, up and down, worried.

"Are you alright?"

All you can do is nod as you walk to the living room, sitting yourself down on the couch—ignoring the stares from your boyfriend.

Lost in thought, ignoring the feeling of your boyfriend next to you.

Ignoring the movie playing, it's all static to you.

Ignoring the popcorn that was placed next to you.

You ignored everything but your own thoughts.

You hated it.

These days, you have been secretly buying more men's products, hiding them underneath the clothes in your cabinet.

You brought cologne, men's clothing, boxers, shoes, everything that could help you to become what you always wanted to be.

It felt horrible keeping this a secret, hiding it from him but you were scared.

So scared.

You even secretly brought a binder as well but only wear it when you are going out by yourself or your friends who knew about you are a TransMan.

All of this fear is going on, you didn't notice how your relationship with Jisung was slacking off.

Almost like you became quite distant with him.

Lack of trust, more of fear and dysphoria.

Of course, you two still hang out from time to time, well, when he is free. Even trying to text and call more since he is a kpop idol but it felt less and dry.

Jisung was scared as well, but in the fear of losing you.

He didn't know what he did wrong as he tries his best to think of what mistakes he has made.

He kept on overthinking to the point it triggered his anxiety a few times, he had fears of you cheating on him.

He didn't want to think that but those thoughts kept on filling his brain that you were with someone else this whole time. Maybe someone better than him.

He couldn't shake this feeling off as he quickly left the studio and walked to the apartment.

Every step he takes, he fears he might see you lay next to a different man or anybody. Fears of you kissing that person along with talking bad about him behind his back.

He almost felt himself starting to cry as he walked to the apartment.

When he makes it, he walks upstairs to the second floor, going to the room number of his lover while grabbing the keys that you gave him when you both thought about sharing apartments together in their 4 months dating together.

He stands in front of the door, debating if he should barge in or knock to let them know that he is here.

His hands were shaking yet he chose to just barge in.

He quickly unlocks the front door of their shared apartment, quickly shutting behind him as he looks around.

Nothing seems suspicious besides a few photos of you and him together gone from the walls.

He frowned from that as he thinks more of the relationship between the two of you. It was either breaking up or cheating.

He shakes his head as he walks to your, or their bedroom.

He opens it to find a messy room.

A few frames that used to be framed in the living room walls, empty along with the photos of both of you together piled on top of each other on the floor.

He even noticed a few pieces of clothing that almost looked like it came out of the men's section along with shoes.

He walks around some more, looking around for any more suspicion until he finally faces the cabinets that he didn't open yet.

He opens the cabinets and looks carefully, grabbing out clothes like boxers, cologne that wasn't clearly his and a few more men's clothing. Maybe even more.

He grips the boxers.

He wanted to cry so hard but all he could think was you.

You are cheating...(?)

You walked inside the apartment, locking the door behind you.

You just got home from the library, studying for an upcoming exam happening next week.

You sighed, all you wanted to do was take a quick shower and sleep, which is exactly what you were about to do.

You change your shoes into your slippers as you speed walk to your bedroom until you stop.

You noticed your bedroom door slightly open.

You stood there, contemplating if you should run out and grab a weapon or gaslight yourself by thinking that you somehow forgot to close your door fully.

You thought the best idea was to grab a weapon, so as you turned around to do so, you heard crying.

Jisung?

You quickly opened the door, face to face with Jisung gripping your boxers, shaking.

You were shocked, feeling yourself shaken with fear.

"Wh-what are you doing here, Jiji?"

You questioned him as you slowly walked up to him, about to give him a hug until he pushed you away softly.

"Don't touch me. I knew it all along..."

What? He knew?

"What? What do you mean?" You eyes wide as you step away from him, almost like you wanted to run away from this situation.

"The photo frames, how distant you were, and now these." Jisung throws the boxers to the ground and then points at your cabinet. "I should've known! Fuck you! Why?" He shouted at you, glaring at you.

"You went through my stuff!?" You shouted back, feeling more taken back.

"Of course I did! I was worried! You felt so distant that I had a feeling you were hiding something from me and I was correct, you were hiding that something!"

You started to cry, you didn't want him to find out. Not like this.

"Please, Jisung, let's talk about this. I didn't know you were going to react like that..."

"What? You didn't know I was going to react like this? Everyone would react like this in this situation! What happened to us? What did I do wrong?" He shouts as he paces back and forward while continuing on with his words.

"I treated you kindly, I gave you love and this is what you do? You were supposed to be my girlfriend, (Dead name)! What the fuck is wrong with you!"

You shook your head as you continued on crying, even Jisung tears kept falling but his anger was rising higher from you weeping.

"Jisung, please! I can still be your girlfriend, I'm sorry! It will be over soon I promise, just give me time..."

"Soon? Soon. Are you serious? How the hell are you supposed to be my fuckin girlfriend when you can't get over that person, you damn cheater!"

Just by that, you stopped crying as you quickly looked at him, confused.

"Huh?" That's all you can say as you wipe your tears from your face.

"Don't 'Huh' me, you're literally cheating on me with someone else!"

So, this is all a misunderstanding.

You thought he knew he was trans but he actually thought you were cheating. Now you have to come out to him either way to make him stop thinking that you are cheating on him when you are actually not.

"No, I'm not. You got it all wrong..."

"Huh? But what about this!" He points to the boxers.

"Those are..." You bite your lip as you try to calm your anxiety down. You didn't want to lose him over a misunderstanding. You didn't really think you were going to be in this situation in the first place.

"Those..are mine."

Jisung stops placing around as he stares at you, his eyes bloodshot red from crying hard.

"Huh?"

"Jisung, this is not how I wanted you to find out but I didn't think you thought it THAT way. I would never cheat on you. You are literally the best boyfriend I ever have..."

You step closer to him, your eyes getting filled with more tears.

"But, you are correct about me hiding something from you and being distant. I was being a bit selfish and selfless as well. I was scared so I wanted to protect myself by distancing myself from you but even protecting our relationship from pretending to be something I'm not..."

Jisung stays quiet as he continues listening.

"I'm not...I'm not your girlfriend anymore."

"So, you are breaking up with me?"

You shook your head quickly.

"NO! Maybe I shouldn't worded it like that. I mean as in..." You sighed as you grip your arms.

"I'm not a girl, Jisung. I'm transman. I've actually been for a while until I met you. You thought I was a pretty girl and wanted to date me so I pretended to be a girl just for you. You treated me with so much care that I ignored my dysphoria, I ignored everything for you but I can't. It hurts so much to be something that I'm not..."

Jisung stood there now in shock, as he started to feel bad along with the times he called you feminine terms.

"How come you never told me this earlier...?"

You shrugged, looking down while chuckling a bit.

"I mean, how am I supposed to react to a cute guy going up to me and all of sudden calling me pretty and asking me out on a date?" You joked a bit but Jisung didn't really find it funny as he continues on feeling bad.

"You were afraid I wouldn't accept you for who you are?"

You nodded.

"Do you not trust me when I say that I love you no matter what every time I see you?"

Those words broke you. Of course you trusted him but at the same time you weren't sure.

"But, aren't you straight?"

"Not anymore..." Jisung grabs your hands. "Do I have to say it again so my own boyfriend can trust me more? I love you no matter what. I love you so much. I really do wish you told me this way earlier, all these times I hurt you and triggered your dysphoria..."

You smiled as you looked up at him who was smiling back at you.

"Boyfriend...?" You slowly said, feeling yourself smiling even wider.

"Yes, my cute boyfriend! I'm so sorry! I can't believe we almost broke up—well I almost broke up with you! Please don't do that again, my anxiety was rising too high!"

You nodded as he gave you a bunch of kisses onto your face.

"Please trust me, I love you too much to leave you."

"Of course, I'm sorry for not telling you this way earlier. I'll become more and more trustful with you and not keep anymore secrets, I'm so sorry! I love you so much!"

You both smile, holding into each other's embrace.

"Oh yeah, Jiji, since you are here. Help me clean."

Jisung groans jokingly but nods anyways as you both clean your mess.

A few months later...

"So, are you sure you want a hair cut?"

You nodded several times.

"Yes, I promise you I won't regret it like the last time." You laughed as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

"Yeah, because last time when you asked for short hair, the hair stylist accidentally, somehow, gave you a pixie cut. There isn't anything wrong with any pixie cuts but really?" Jisung commented as he wraps the towel in front of your upper body.

"Well, that's why we are doing it in our bathroom. Free and you can do my hair correctly."

"I'm an idol not a hair salonist—you might just go bald at this point."

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

"If you do make me bald, I won't hesitate to sue you."

"Yeah yeah, let me give you a nice short hair cut. You want a fade too?" He questions, grabbing a pair of scissors and a ruler (?).

"Do you even know how to do a fade...?"

"You want to find out?"

"Hell no, just give me this hair cut, good sir." You showed a picture to him.

"Of course, my prince! Anything for you! I'll make you look fabulous with this hairstyle~"

"I hope..." You side eyes him.

"Just trust me."

You rolled your eyes but nodded anyways.

You felt happy.

You didn't ignore anything around you.

You felt loved for the way you are.

"Fuck, I think I messed up, (Preferred Name)!"

"WHAT?!"

I hope this was perfect enough for you, I tried to make it more uhh whatever I was thinking about! Hope you enjoy!

Ngl, it felt like I didn't know wtf I was typing even though I planned it out a bit.

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thatbitchery · 6 months ago

Text

BTW I tell y'all I have severe ADHD once every ten seconds because i want you to know I'm a low performer. I procrastinate on important matters for months and sometimes, most times really, it costs me opportunities and relationships and peace of mind because I'll know I'm supposed to do X but have no willpower whatever to do X. I want you ladies to know that's sometimes I hyperfixate on things with no importance whatsoever and that takes away my energy from things that are important. Hell, just last week I spent 8 hours on my laptop reading on bears and watching beat videos when I had work to do. That I have time blindness and sometimes am extremely late or extremely early or just get days mixed up and do Thursday things on Wednesday because I thought it's Thursday or forget it's Friday and not do Friday things and it costs me, dearly. Expensively. That I am inconsistent as they come and even a machine gun to my head can't get me to do something that my brain rejects. That sometimes I cry for hours because I feel pathetic and sad and too small with dreams too big. That somedays I wake up with the energy of a thousand Suns and start 58868 projects, create a brand new goals list for things I'll do in my life and go strong for three days then just- dump it after the energy falls. Then hate the hell out of myself because what the hell. That everytime I want to pick a new hobby or buy something or make a decision I hesitate because , do I really want this or is it dopamine and I'll dump it after 6 working days, because I have too many WIPs that Im yet to complete but can't bring myself to. That I need 168979 watches with alarms and a digital to do list and a manual to do list and sometimes I'll still get nothing done. That I try, so hard, and sometimes, just can't. And everyone that's supposed to help has the same recycled tips that just will not work for me. That I had medication for a while that worked but my body got used to it and overpowered it, so now even the option for medication is out of the picture - so I have to live like this for the rest of my life. That sometimes I run purely on ego because my self esteem is on the floor. That everytime I get a new opportunity I panic a little because what if I give up midpoint and ruin my reputation?? What if? That I self isolate because when I have too much energy I can't sit still and I interrupt everyone and need to run or I'll combust. That I self isolate because I have low social awareness and could easily say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Because I'm not normal and that feels shameful sometimes. That even CBT hasn't been able to set me straight, but I worked so hard to make money for therapy and medication and it's not working so I've also lost my will to work because what is it even for?????

I could Grammarly and AI my posts and have them professional looking but I want the ADHD girls with a brain faster than their hands to know it's okay to leave some words out because your brain is 6 words ahead of your hand and you're trying to keep up. I want the dyslexia girlies to know you can still write even when you're not sure if that thing makes sense, the people that mind do not matter and the people that matter do not mind. Because I want the 'english is not my first language' girls like me that struggle with adverbs and nouns and tenses and spelling to know hey it's okay, just write. You want to write, write. Do it for you. Forget the rest. I could polish all my posts, I do it for my work and official documents but if I do what will the girlies that need to know they're not stupid, English is just a language and spellings don't matter that much and you can communicate outside perfection see to reinforce their desire?? What will the autistics that want to try blogging but feel scared because they can't arrange their thoughts in a comprehensive manner and get lost in side stories sometimes look at and go oh my god- we exist and it's okay because we can still influence.

I tell you ladies every three seconds that I am a dark skinned black 5'4 slim immigrant in a white supremacist country because I want the girls that fit neither the beauty standards or the stereotypical standards to know they can chase their dreams and it doesn't matter. So the girlies of color that watch news and movies and social media and see people that look like them being murdered and disrespected and read the comments to know yeah, you can still do it, get on that plane. If I don't what will the girls that know for a fact that was unfair treatment look at when they need to know they can still rise above and make it??? If I dont tell you that actually I'm not where I am because I'm the hardest working in the room- I'm actually hella lazy- I'm where I am because I manipulate cheat claw gaslight blackmail my way how will the girls that work hard and still not achieve know that it's not because them it's because the world is unfair and you win by being unfair. I could play good girl , I could, I could tell you just work hard and go for it but then what will the girls that did all that and still failed look at to make sense of the world around them? Justify how things got here when they did everything they were supposed to? I say be a bitch so the girls that are demonized for not taking it lying down can be bitchier. I say learn the patriarchy and fit the beauty standards as much as you can and cosplay what's likeable not to conform but to cosplay and manipulate so that the girls that know it's wrong realize that you should just play them the way they play you - that's real feminism. That's real equality, learning the game to learn how to cheat and win because you were born to lose, the rules aren't made with you in mind so why would you stick to them, and fighting them is futile, you'll lose. I say being feared >> than being loved for the girls that got manipulated used trashed in the name of love. I tell you people are animals that survive by low balling each other so you can make a little sense of your trauma and forgive yourself for what you had to become to survive.

This blog is for the outsiders, actually. The girls that do not see content made that make sense for them, the girls that are born into a world that has no space for them and couldn't fit in if they tried because it's impossible. I'm here as proof you can make it. Autistic dyslexic ADHD black female , ticking all the wrong boxes and still making it. That's why I'm here, to show you how. To show you, you can. It's okay, you're okay. In fact, you're- better.

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pygmi-says-hi · 3 months ago

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writing tips - editing!

my favorite circle of hell.

I think for me personally, the moment I learned how to edit productively, I felt my writing skills improve as a whole. The idea around editing is that it's getting rid of 'all the bad stuff' which I don't like for a number of reasons.

Firstly, editing is just making it look the way you want it. You mixed all the paints, you prepped the canvas, you sketched the outline, and you're adding the finishing touches.

And...it doesn't have to be scary!

Firstly - I wanna talk about Microsoft Editor, Grammarly, etc

They suck. Sorry those of you that love trying to get a perfect writing score on grammarly, but the AI just sucks. It doesn't understand tone, artistic influence, social context, or anything that makes your writing unique and interesting.

If you are in the habit of blindly accepting any 'suggestions' your software throws at you, stop. get some help.

Not only is this not helpful (because truthfully some of the suggestions are wrong) but it doesn't teach you how to analyze and critique your own writing for improvement. If grammarly says 'change this sentence to blah blah blah instead of beep beep boop' and you don't actually look at it...you could erase something that was fine to begin with! maybe I wanted beep boop vibes instead of blah blah vibes.

The computer doesn't know that. It also doesn't know that you intentionally made that a run on sentence to convey building tension. Or that milque toast is actually how you spell it, not 'milk toast'.

You need to build your editing skills. Think critically about why that sentence should change, if reasonable. Read your paragraphs and think "does this convey the tone, message, and have a reasonable length? Great! next paragraph."

if this process seems way too big and long and intimidating, let's figure out a plan.

there are a billion ways to edit successfully. As you work, you'll find a rhythm.

First - don't do too many steps at the same time.

Writing and editing at the same time doesn't work. If you do that, you'll get an uneven draft (aka half of it is polished for publishing and the other half is steaming garbage) and you'll slow your roll. Write first, edit later.

Word vomit is not always the way to go.

There is such a thing as bad brainstorming. I think the term 'brainstorming' is misconstrued as being something like 'put every idea on the page' when really it's about throwing down all the ideas and then weeding out the bad ones.

Mountains before molehills.

Get the big editing out of the way first. This means the umbrella stuff. is the plot sensible? does that dialogue need to be shifted? Is this chapter too short or too long? Do I like the general voice/tone? then, start with the pretty sentences and formatting.

If you get too attached to a paragraph because you spent so long on the symbolic subtext, you'll be less willing to potentially delete it, even if it's useless.

Get some friends to help!

Share it with peers or beta readers. These people will read it from an audience perspective and give you advice from their experience. Sometimes the writer brain gets in the way of the reader brain and you can't tell the difference.

hope this helps!!

#writing help #writing advice #writing tips #fiction writing #on writing #writer #how to write #creative writing #editing #edits #for authors #author #writers community #book writing #tips and tricks

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oddballwriter · 8 months ago

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The Second

Summary: After going on an unplanned adventure with your best friend and crush, his host, and his host's wife to stop the end of the world, and ending up in an accidental love triangle... square...whatever shape it is, you go back to your hometown to clear your mind. It's a great success for you, helping you reconnect with your childhood friend and even bring him back to continue the fun and show him your life in London. But unbeknownst to you, it seems like it might just cause a rift that is born on one side of the triangle.

Warnings: Love triangle and unrequited feelings. The reader is referred to using she/her. Angst, it's soft but it's there. Third-wheeling. I can't think of anything else but I feel like there's more, if there is just tell me.

Author’s Snip: This is sort of a pilot for a series idea that I have that involves all kinds of love shape situations, rivalry, and dragging friends into all kinds of avatar shenanigans on accident. So if you guys like this, let me know so that I can prep and have it ready for writing and planning.

Notes: This is not proofread before posting, if there are errors blame Grammarly for not catching it. I might fix them later.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 2,892

Tag List: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

What an adventure you just went on. It all feels so unreal when you even try and think about it. Even as you stare up at the ceiling above your bed you find it hard to really digest fully.

Your good friend Steven turned out to be an alter for a person with DID who's named Marc Spector, whom you had not met, ever, throughout you and Steven's close friendship. In which Marc is the avatar and fist of justice for the Egyptian god Khonshu and was living his life while Steven was not fronting, unbeknownst to Steven, and has been playing a game of keep-away with a cult and their leader for a scarab. And you ended up finding all that out when some members of the cult kidnapped you to intimidate Steven and Marc. By the way, Marc is married and has been married, to a woman named Layla. And so you had to go on this whole adventure with all three of them to stop the end of the world, or something, nearly dying on several occasions, and now it's done apparently. Crisis averted. Also, there is a fucking third one.

You're sure that if you told someone outside of your journal and your new group of friends about this, then you would be thrown into a psychiatric hospital in record time.

And that isn't even mentioning all the complicated feelings you're having right now about the love triangle, that only you are aware of. Because of course, you're in a love triangle that the two other people have no idea exists. It's complicated. It was a little complicated at the start, and now it's so much more complicated because now there's another person involved.

Scratch that, four people involved. This is a love square.

Fuck it, now that Jake's here it might actually be a love pentagon now!

Either way, it all has to do with your feelings towards Steven. You had developed them pretty early on in your friendship with Steven because you just so happened to fall into your type. Dork, sweet, funny, and polite guys were your weakness. You tried to fight them off, not wanting to ruin the friendship that you honestly valued with Steven. But he just had this aura and energy that had your heart like a moth to a flame. Some might call it a slow burn. You'd say that it all was fast. But the warmth went to heat that got painful when you found out about Marc and Layla, and thus Steven and Layla.

You're not mad at Layla. Of course not! Why would you? She was there first, technically. It feels bad to say that. Both because you'd have to try and snuff out the feelings that you have, but also because it sounds wrong. It sounds like Steven's an object to be won instead of a person with his own thoughts and feelings. And you never once saw him like that. He was Steven. Nice, sweet, funny Steven.

You knew you needed to move on, even if it hurt. You know you don't have the guts and nerve to be 'the other person' even if you got the chance to be. It would be disrespectful to Layla, and Layla's a great woman. You settle on going back home, to your hometown, to see family and friends in hopes that it'll distract you, maybe even help you get over it if you're lucky. You call up your family who gladly accept the idea and will set up the room that you'll stay in by the time you get there. With that, you pack your bags, get ready for the trip, and head off.

You don't tell Steven that you're leaving to anywhere at first until you're just about to leave, figuring that if he tries to visit you and you're not there he'll assume someone else has kidnapped you and panic. You just send him a simple "As a heads up I'll be out of town for a while. I need a break.", at some point in your trip heading towards your hometown he texts you back with a single "Okay. Sounds nice.".

As it turns out, going around old loved ones really does help your blues. Matter of fact it seems like everyone from your life here heard the news that you'd be spending a few weeks in town and all got together to see you. Your uncle and dad actually threw a little family cookout so that everyone can come say hi to you.

Everyone had questions for you. What's London like? What have you been doing? How's life going over there?

Of course, you can't tell them about all the recent events and you also don't want to ruin your good mood by talking about Steven like you probably would have if this were a trip not spawned from him, in a sense. Overall, everyone's just happy you're back regardless.

You meet a really old face amidst the crowd of family and friends who've assembled. Samson. Sammy. God, you'd know his face anywhere and you know he'd know yours too. You and Sammy have been best friends since diapers. Your moms were friends. Apparently, the story goes that your mom and dad were at the courthouse waiting in line to sign the marriage papers and so were Sammy's mom and dad. Your mothers started talking and it turns out they have a lot in common. By the time both parties left the courthouse, they were in each other's weddings, to which they then found out that they both would be moving into the same area to settle down. Your moms swear that you and Sammy being close in age was just a coincidence but you always joked that it wasn't.

Sammy is hard to put into words. How do you describe the person who's been your best friend since both of you were coloring with crayons and all the way to high school graduations and beyond? The number one person you would talk to about things outside of your parents and through all of the other friends you've both had throughout your lives, the one that has always been the same. Sammy is just Sammy to you, in the most sincere way possible.

After seeing each other at the cookout you catch up on just about everything. What you've been up to, any life milestones you've gotten to while apart. You tell him about London and he tells you about his life here in town. Sammy's gotten up to a few things, had a few girlfriends, and apparently, he's developed his own business. Turns out he's a handyman and locksmith now and makes great money. Gets to make his own hours, so he says. Sammy teases you a bit and asks if you've been collecting British boyfriends. You know it's just a tease but it plucks at the still tender parts of your heart a little. You brush it off and say no.

"No?" Sammy questions, "Come on. Someone like you over there? You're kidding me. You've got to have some guys waiting like a dog for you to come back." he says. You decide to play along in the banter.

"Maybe I do. What of it, Sam-I-Am." you shrug, pretending like he's trying to compete and also pulling out old childhood nicknames. Sammy cringes and the nickname, "Oof, not the Sam-I-Am from kindergarten. You know only my dad called me that until you said it in class. Then everyone started calling me that till fifth grade." Sammy laughs. "Not you doing your shitty British accents when I said I had a thing for British boys back in seventh grade." you reference and make a call back of your own. "It made you laugh and that was my goal." Sammy playfully defended.

For a good half of your stay, Sammy was there, like always, and you would be talking about the old days. Referencing various moments and laughing or cringing together. It felt so nostalgic and good to just feel that bond again, have someone who knows all your little inside jokes and references because they were there when it was formed, and you both didn't want it to stop.

So when the day that you were to go back to London you threw out the idea that Sammy come back with you and continue the fun there. Show him what you've been doing and show him the little life you've created there.

Even though you live in a one-bedroom apartment you managed to accommodate your guest pretty well. You always knew that the pull-out bed extension of your couch that you bought second-hand would have a use someday. You two settled on rules and bases, along with where various things are in case they're needed.

After that, it was just more talking that made the time go by so fast and other things seem so minuscule. You hadn't really paid attention to the fact that you had a brief text conversation with Steven when you got back basically just telling him that you were back and what you're up to right now. It wasn't until he texted you something that sort of snapped you out of it.

You: I'm not really doing anything but my friend came back with me and will be here for a bit.

Steven: Oh that's nice

Steven: Can I meet them maybe?

You weren't sure how long you spent looking at that message, but it was long enough that Sammy noticed. "Something wrong?" he asks. "No," you reply, "Just one of my friends. He says he wants to meet you... if you're okay with that," you explain but hesitate slightly at the end, not really liking the sound of having Steven over right now after being able to get him off your mind. "Sure! I'd love to meet one of your friends here." Sammy responds, "If that's alright with you of course." he adds.

You take a second to weigh it out in your mind. On one hand, having the guy that you have feelings for over after you went on a whole vacation partially because he doesn't feel that way towards you doesn't sound like the best idea. But maybe having Sammy here will reduce that feeling of awkwardness since it can just be having your friends meet each other.

Taking the gamble, you tell Steven that he's good to come over.

The next few minutes are spent continuing to talk to Sammy, making jokes and having banter. When you hear the knock at your door you and a text from Steven that announces that he's arrived. You get up from the couch and make your way to the door, unlocking it and opening it up. And there he is, smiling at you and giving you his usual polite little "hello". You greet him back before stepping out of the way so that he can come in.

Sammy gets up from his seat on the couch and comes to shake Steven's hand. You see Steven hesitate briefly and sort of freeze up before taking the hand shake. You step in between them.

"Steven, this is my childhood friend, Samson. Samson, this is my friend Steven." you introduce them to each other and gesture to them respectively. "Nice to meet you!" Sammy comments. "Likewise," Steven responds.

You all take a seat, you and Sammy back on the couch while Steven takes a chair from your little dining table set. Sammy and Steven have some good small talk back and forth, talking the usual stuff when you meet new people. You can see Steven being a little fidgety, picking at his sweater sleeve, nodding along but having a small crease between his brows. All things that he does when he's nervous or concerned with something, you take it as Steven being shy about meeting and talking to new people like he usually is. You take it upon yourself to sort of help him by bringing up subjects that you know he's good at talking about.

"Steven loves Ancient Egypt and mythos. He knows pretty much everything," you mention. Sammy raises his brows in interest, "Really?" he questions. "Oh yeah," Steven confirms, "I would have made a bloody good tour guide if my superior wasn't out to get me." Steven remarks. You see Sammy hold back a laugh in the corner of your vision, you turn to him and light-heartedly scold him with a "Stop it.". Sammy looks towards you, his smile growing to a shit-eating grin. "Stop it," you repeat, "Behave. I told you not to laugh," you say as you struggle to keep your own laughter in. "He said the thing." Sammy squeaks out before letting a few laughs leave him. You lean in and bap him on the shoulder playfully, "Stop," you warn as you give him a few baps.

Steven lets out a small laugh that only you can tell is his fake trying-to-pretend-I-get-it laugh. "I'm sorry, Steven." you apologize, "Not even 24 hours in and he doesn't know how to act," you say as you look back to Sammy and give him a playful shake. "I'm sorry." Sammy says to Steven, "There's an inside joke to it I swear." he says.

"What's the joke?" Steven inquires. Your face drops, knowing what Sammy is going to say. "Don't you dare," you warn Sammy as you try to cover his mouth, but Sammy already knew that you are going to stop him and is ready to block your hand. You both spend a few seconds lightly wrestling as you try to cover his mouth and he blocks you in some way. "It has something to do with her-" Sammy says before you interrupt him with a "No!" in objection, "British boyfriend!" Sammy announces. "I don't have a British boyfriend!" you object through laughs as you hit him with a couch pillow. You both spend a few moments laughing. When you finally calm down you find Steven looking at the two of you like you've grown and extra head.

You sigh and look to Sammy, "Why don't you explain 'British boyfriend' to him since you want to talk about it so much?". "Okay, okay," Sammy submits. "This one," Sammy says pointing at you, "Had a thing for this one kid who was visiting family for the summer in our home neighborhood back in seventh grade, or seventh year, whatever it's called here. And so we have this joke that he was her British boyfriend. And I used to do a really bad accent to make her laugh and get all embarrassed.", Sammy looks at you and reassures, "I'm not going to do it, don't worry.".

The conversation goes on but you and Sammy can't help but say more jokes that you then need to explain to Steven, which leads to other stories and laughing fits between the two of you. You try to do the same with Steven in case he references something between the two of you, but you find that Steven just seems to sit there and listen, nodding along. You want to try and prompt something but at some point, you're able to sense this weird tension in the air whenever you do.

You aren't too sure what to do. You don't want to shoo Steven out since you've always said that Steven was always welcomed at your place, but the atmosphere is strange between the two of you for some reason. It isn't until Sammy gives something that would get the job done.

"You know, it's really nice to meet you, Steven. But I think the traveling is starting to catch up with me." Sammy says as he stretches his arms out. "Oh, no worry. I was actually thinking of getting out of your hair. You know..." Steven responds, "Since you guys probably had to get out early to get back here." he clarifies. Steven was already getting up to leave by the time he even started talking.

Sammy and you get up also, and you go in for the usual goodbye hug that you and Steven do when parting ways, Sammy shakes Steven's hand again and says his goodbyes.

Once Steven leaves, you and Sammy set up the couch so that Sammy can nap for a bit. You head to your room so that you can take one for yourself and reflect on the meeting. You still have a bit of that feeling of weird tension but figure that maybe Steven wasn't prepared for all the energy that you and Sammy created and all the inside jokes. Maybe a second get-together could help with that. After all, it might be great to have two best friends also be best friends with each other.

Meanwhile, Steven walks back, sitting in his thoughts quietly as he walks until Marc appears in a reflection along the walk. "What's with the long face?" Marc asks. Steven glances at Marc for a moment, "Nothing, it's just that..." Steven opens up with, "I felt like a bit of a third wheel over there." he admits. Marc shrugs, "Well it is her friend from her hometown, isn't it? I'm sure they'd be all chatty with each other.".

"Yeah, I suppose so." Steven replies, "It just felt a bit... off." Steven remarks.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant

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temis-de-leon · 3 months ago

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I kid you not, grammarly edited my work so much that it took my motivation away.

It used to help with spelling mistakes and such, but now it wants to change whole sentences and even paragraphs and sometimes it isn't even right, especially when it's a gender neutral reader.

Plus, you can't see those major corrections unless you pay for the premium version.

I'm sorry for the delay in posting, but I can't concentrate when every other paragraph I write is underlined in three different colors.

And my parents have discovered a new music group that makes them really happy, but that means I've been listening to the same three albums for a whole weekend.

I'll try again tomorrow. Love you guys and wish me luck 🩷

#temis rambles #hope you understand #sleep well #🩷

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monpalace · 10 months ago

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fem! twilight/fem! reader. non-graphic descriptions of a wound. twilight licking said wound like it's a kiss. she's a little feral. lime on the citrus scale. checked with grammarly. 762 words. my three (3) irls, you don't see this.

It was an ugly gash. You'd held a branch out of the way for Warriors and let go of it before you'd fully moved past it.

You hadn't even noticed it cut through your clothes until Legend pointed it out.

An accident.

One that Twilight had decided to take as her personal task— but an accident no less.

She'd helped you wrap it up with the bandage wrap you kept on your person until camp was set up.

The temporary fix was cut away once she was able to pull you away to a running lake. She'd brought you down to sit between her thighs, bare legs dipped into frigid water was a sharp wake-up to the way her eyes hooded over as she looked at the bloody wound.

The gash was on your back, somewhere you couldn't comfortably reach without straining a muscle.

She's picking at the dried blood left behind by the now scarlet bandage. Her other hand busies itself with squeezing your waist in a pattern you can't make out.

You don't know if it's meant to be comforting or predatory with the way her breath tickles your neck.

"Twilight?"

She doesn't respond with words. Instead, some guttural groan leaves her belly and you can't help but think of the wolf that sometimes accompanies you when she leaves.

You hesitate to speak again. If she were caught somewhere in her head, you don't want to bother her, but you're shirtless by such a cold lake, and your back was starting to ache from being hunched over, and you could feel the way your gash was starting to pulse with heat, and—

The tongue that lathes at your wound is slippery yet slow. It's hot, but not painfully so like the touch of your injury.

Split ends and a boyish cut are all you can see when you look over your shoulder. The overwhelming heat on your waist is instead cupped over your chin, forcing you to look forward again.

Another lick, this one instead followed by an open-mouthed kiss to the bloody cut.

The air feels muggy and you're not sure if it's because of the heat in the air or the way she panted so heavily against your skin. Your nerves were struggling to tell the difference between her hot and heavy breaths, her messy strings of saliva, and your own sweat.

Her teeth feel sharper than what you've seen and you think of that wolf again. She gently bites at the serrated skin, either trying to coax more blood from it or show her appreciation for its offering.

You don't jump or jolt or gasp or sigh even when the skin feels like it's been rubbed raw. Her tongue is exploring the surrounding expanse of skin as though she were entranced by it and you can't bring yourself to stop her.

Your nails dig deeply into the balls of your hands, making the skin raw. Past the thought the last time you cut them, you wonder if she'd let you grip onto some part of her body to alleviate the tension building throughout your body.

The way she gripped your chin earlier only tells you she'd manhandle both wrists into a single hand and force you still until she was done.

You squirm at the possibility.

When Twilight finally pulls away, you don't realize it at first. It takes her rubbing a digit on the overworked skin for you to gain some semblance of clarity.

She's muttering under her breath and licking around wherever her tongue can reach inside her mouth and on her face.

"'m sorry doll, I didn' mean t' go at ya' so hard, you'll be okay pretty girl, you'll be okay, I had to get ya' right before I fixed ya', you'll be right as rain soon, got that girlie?"

What was meant to be words of comfort sounded more like drunken rambles. She's petting along your spine and pushing her nose behind your ear, her free hand reaching somewhere at her hips.

A rip sounds through the air and you wince at the contact on your wound. Cool air and searing spit are suffocated beneath what you can only assume is the bandage.

Twilight wraps it around your shoulder round and round and round, tight enough to keep it in place yet loose enough to not restrict movement.

She's pressing her lips to whatever piece of skin she can reach, hands gingerly groping at your sides every now and again.

"Now let's go, yeah? 'm sure the others 're worried."

#i had to be gay for a second my bad #irls if you see this no you dont #if i had it my way (writer's block 👎🏽) i'd write a fic about vampire! wars and bloodbag! reader who are codependent #grim's scribbles #x reader #loz x reader #legend of zelda x reader #lu x reader #linked universe x reader #loz link x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #lu twilight x reader #linked universe twilight x reader

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mychemicalnations · 4 months ago

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What the fuck, NaNo???????

this is a long post, buckle up.

Okay, if you haven't heard anything about NaNoWriMo's statement about the use of AI in writing, I am both jealous of you and here to ruin that for you.

The folks over at National Novel Writing Month have released a statement (which you can read here) that explicitly says that being Anti-genAI is classist and ableist. My gut reaction is that this is a fucking asinine take -- poor and disabled people have been writing for longer than we've even had the electricity that powers AI -- but the more I think about it, the angrier I get about the anti-community sentiment that they seem to be pushing.

The claims that are made in this statement are either non-issues or something that AI does not actually fix. Yeah, not everyone can afford to hire an editor, but that is a large part of why writing communities exist both in-person and online. Exchange works with a friend and help each other out, find a discord server and ask there. Make use of a writing community. The same thing applies to ableism; Yeah, we all have different abilities and not everyone can "see" what might need improvement. So you share your work with another writer and get feedback from your community. Writing is a skill that needs to be honed and in order to do that, you have to be okay with being bad at it sometimes.

I'm not even sure I can say much about their "General access" paragraph because, like... AI is not going to fix the systemic issues with the publishing industry. It just won't. That entire paragraph gets half-way to a point and then falls on its ass into the void.

As if I wasn't angry enough, NaNoWriMo edited the statement about 8 hours ago to say "Note: we have edited this post by adding this paragraph to reflect our acknowledgment that there are bad actors in the AI space who are doing harm to writers and who are acting unethically."

This makes me want to throw my computer out a fucking window. Using AI in writing or any other art is inherently unethical because the language models being used are trained on works by people who did not consent to their work being used to train said AI. It is theft. It is plagiarism. Plain and simple. Chat-GPT was trained using the entirety of the New York Times archive, so when you use Chat-GPT, what it produces is based off of the work of NYT journalists (read about the resulting lawsuit here). It's not that there are "bad actors", the programs themselves are built on stealing writing. We've known this for what feels like ages now. This is such a bullshit edit and a fucking sad attempt at saving their asses.

I am someone that doesn't even use Grammarly anymore because they literally market themselves as an AI writing assistant and I'm not willing to risk my entire degree for an application that can't even handle vernacular and dialect and makes mid suggestions at best. Genuinely fuck off and block me if you support the use of AI in writing. Also, my block button is rated E for Everyone and I will use it liberally if anyone comes into my notes supporting genAI. Unless I am feel particularly combative, then you will feel the full weight of my academic and creative integrity. You have been warned.

#genAI #AI #artificial intelligence #Generative AI #ChatGPT #NaNoWriMo #National Novel Writing Month #I am genuinely so angry about this

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lostiolite · 6 months ago

Text

ORDER UP!! PT 1.5

Wordcount: 5k

Basicly just part 1 but with an extra 3.5k words, id rather you read this one instead, on the very small chance you've already read the first part theres this long space and red divider that signifies the new parts/part 1.5.

NOT BETAREAD (i used grammarly but whatevvv) & also cross posted on ao3

You worked at a rather unique restaurant. The fact that you landed such a well-paying and safe job was surprising, especially as you were quirkless. The thing is, people aren’t that fond of hiring quirkless people, especially if it was a well-respected job. They would take someone with a quirk over your quirkless ass any day, even if their quirk was useless for the job position.

It seems that the owner, Hyugo, either took pity or preferred quirkless people. Perhaps it was a mixture of both. He was very sympathetic to your desperation for the job, but he also said that “quirkless people worked harder”. He was right. The thing is, quirkless people have more to lose when it comes to their jobs. No matter how useless someone's quirk was, they could probably find a job that would utilize their natural-born talents.

The restaurant was interesting… to say the least. It was very high quality, with extremely high hygienic rules that even most restaurants didn't have in Japan. As kind as Hyugo was, he was the world's number one germaphobe. He prided himself in the quality of the customer service, if it wasn't good enough to serve to him, then it wasn’t good to serve to anyone in his restaurant. Most of the waiters wear a mask, even though it's not required, most of the workers just go above and beyond to ensure the hygienic quality of the food, you included. You all like your jobs, as laborious as it is, you get to meet interesting people, it's (somewhat) safe and the employees are pretty dope.

That brings you to now, you are serving an old man, two young men your age, one brunette wearing a black medical mask who seems to be scanning the place, the other with white arrow-shaped hair, and… a small toucan plushie-looking dude… you wonder if that’s a mutation or an emitter quirk. The old man is rather friendly despite the 3 men following having the opposite aura. Despite the glare of the brunette and blank face of the white-haired boy, the old man seems to be rather jolly.

“Not a fan of germs are you?” He says as he takes a seat, he takes a quick glance at the brunette who you can safely assume is a germaphobe- just like Hyugo. who's staring at you with malice.

“Oh- no, it's for hygienic reasons, the owner’s a huge germaphobe. He takes the restaurant's hygiene very seriously” you respond as you get your notepad out. “Do you need time to look over the menu? Or would you like to order your drinks and appetizers now?"

“Give us a minute please”

“Alright, I'll be back in a second” You depart, going to check on other tables.

You’re very speedy and efficient, you've been working for Hyugo for about 2 years. You've seen Hyugo at work for about a year before that, you're 17 now. You were young and needed a job after some… unfortunate events, ones you wouldn't like to remember. Since you've basically lived at the restaurant for the past 3 years you know it like the back of your hand.

You are serving the table with extreme proficiency. The brunette is conversing with the old man, with the old man talking more. The toucan dude is showing the other guy something on his phone while talking. Despite this you can't help but feel the burning gaze of the brunette, It feels like he's chastising your every move. Like your some random ass pest.

“You’re very good at your job? How old are you? You seem rather young." the elder asks you curiously, at his voice, the rest of the table goes quiet to listen in on your conversation. All four men staring at you, making you feel quite uncomfortable.

“Thank you, I can't afford to lose my job” you laugh, though albeit awkwardly. “It's hard to find such a well-paying job being quirkless” You pause for a moment. “And yes, I'm 17, I've known the owner for a while so I learned the ins and outs of the restaurant very early on”. though your mouth is covered, your eyes convey a smile.

“Wow! You're very responsible and amicable” he chuckles turning to the brunette beside him. “Kai, you could learn a thing or two from them”. The brunette looks back at you, his stare less malicious than before, but still malicious. You laugh along.

“Thank you, is there anything else I can get for you? Or will that be all?"

“That's all”. You bow a little, before returning to your other duties, still mildly unnerved by the previous table. There was this sense of extreme seriousness and poison despite the old man's altruism. You have a feeling in your gut telling you there is something wrong with the Gold-eyed boy.

You feel the violent stare of the brunette as you work. It's different than when he first laid eyes on you. At first, he seemed to look at you like you were a bug, someone beneath him, unworthy of his presence. But now, it seems like he's looking at you as if you were a zoo animal. Both are bad, but the latter is better. you can tell he’s analyzing you, by the looks of it he seems anti-social.

They leave without issue, with the old man extremely pleased, bidding you a nice farewell as they leave, you respond with a “Come again!" before looking away. The rest of the group kind of erks you.

What an odd bunch you think. However, you don't linger on that thought for long. You run into far more interesting and dangerous people on a daily. For exmaple, one time Sir Nighteye ate at the restaurant, thought you didn't know until a few weeks later when Arlan mentioned it. Another interesting thing about the restaurant is that even though its located a bit near a Hero agency (the aforementioned hero) it's located in a rather shady area, but its kind of like a neutral zone. The restaurant has this policy where anyone can come in as long as they don't cause trouble, (that includes villains and criminals) as long as they don't cause or bring trouble. Hyugo says that it's for the safety of his workers and the civilians who come in, which makes sense. Even though most heroes would dislike the idea.

The rest of the day goes without anything of note. You've finished your shift and are sitting at a table with your friend Chiyo, eating dinner. She's a kind curious girl, with shoulder-length grey-red hair, and bright ruby eyes. She's Hyugo’s niece and has a passion for culinary, so she works in the kitchen and on cleaning duty. Shes really passionate about the job and shes good at it too. Shes fuckin’ awsome, she was there for you at your worst, even when you weren't as stable, and was also kind of the reason you got the job. You owe her alot.

A few days later you end up serving for the same group of people, the old man flashing you a vivacious smile.

“Oh, it's you! How are you?" he asks as he sits down.

“I'm good!” you say flashing him a friendly smile, you scrunch your eyes as much as you can to get the message across, second nature from wearing a mask so often. “I'm assuming you enjoyed your experience last time? How was it?”

“Yes, the food was nice! The chefs did an amazing job" he says looking to the rest of the group, silent, but they all give him a nod of agreeance. You feel awkward, you wonder why it's only the old man making conversation with you.

“I'm sure they would be glad to hear that” You’re genuine, you recall that one time where one of the chefs was told by a family how good the food was, and she was visibly happy for the rest of the day. You smile remembering such a warm moment.

“Make sure to tell ‘em”

“I will, it doesn't seem like much it, but it really makes their day.” you pause for a bit, you can tell the brunette boy is annoyed by how much you talk. “So, how may I get you started?”

“We would all like water please,” the white-haired boy says

“Alright! I'll get that for you. Anything else?" you respond, slightly startled, you sort of expected only the old man to speak.

“No, thank you”

“Alright!" you scrunch your eyes and get their water.

Once again you feel golden eyes burning your back as you work. Seriously what was his problem? You wonder if they are going to become regulars, or maybe they’ll get tired of this place after a few visits.

Two months have passed and they have indeed become regulars. This time, you see the same brunette and his white hair friend walk in, no old man or walking plushie in sight, which is new. For the past two months, they have come in nine times. In those nine visits you have come to find out that Kai, surname Chisaki is the elder man's successor. You can't tell if that's his son or his grandson. Irinaka has an emitter quirk, meaning he can freely change out of that plushie form when he wants. Though you don't know the full extent of his quirk and, you are kind of interested in his true form. Kurono, the white arrow-haired man, is Chisaki's childhood friend and close confidant. Its obvious they like this place, and they seem to have warmed up to you, despite not talking. The old man seems to be a bit of a yapper, doing the talking for them. You ended up mentioning the policy regarding villains and he seemed amused and delighted, for some reason that stuck out to out. You and him engaged in conversation each and every nine times he's visited, and by luck, you always ended up serving him.

It seems that streak will never reach ten. You notice the host places them on a table outside of your region, meaning that you won't serve them. Oh well, not my problem. You’re about to go back to work before you realize you're making eye contact with Chisaki as he is led to his table. You avert your gaze, they make you kinda feel kinda awkward, especially since the old man isn't around, you can’t imagine how dry talking to them, or mainly Chisaki would be. Thank god you're not serving them today. Chisaki still barely talks and is extremely awkward with you. At first he was malicious but it seems he’s calmed down and learnt to accept your presence.

Out of curiosity, you look back at them and your co-worker who is going to serve them today. What takes you by surprise is the way Chisakis's face- though masked, contorts in disgust and offense when he sees your co-worker Haruo approach. His eyes immediately dart to you like a lost puppy, then back at Haruo with disgust, then back to you. You shrug while confused, a dumbfounded look on your face before returning to work.

You weren't expecting that.

But holy shit it was kind of cute...

...

"And you know what he did? He looked DISGUSTED, like Haruo being the one to serve him was a crime committed against his whole family, and then he looked at me and it was… like cute? I don’t know how to describe it!!" you retell the events of earlier today to Chiyo.

"That's so cute! So you're basically his favorite waiter" she giggles as she pops a french fry into her mouth.

"I guess so, I think it's more like that just what he's used to" You take a sip of your drink

"What do you mean?" she cocks her head to the side questioningly.

"I... I dunno? He doesn't seem very knowledgeable about social interaction, he seems very stern. Uptight, like there's always a stick up his ass "

"Ooou okay," she pauses for a moment “Is he cute? What’s he look like?”

"Okay so he has short fluffy brown hair, and his eyes are yellow, like golden, and his eyes are very sharp I guess-"

"Oo"

"he dresses formally, i feel like he has very little sense of fashion, and hes def anti social. He also has 3 piercings on his uhh..." you think for a moment. "Left ear"

"Bad boy?" she says jokingly.

"Yeah” you chuckle, “I think he hates everyone except the people he eats with, oh yeah his bottom eyelashes are LONG" You elongate the O.

"Oooo so he's like..."

"Pretty"

"Pretty" she giggles "is he like... A black cat, you know those guys in romance manga."

"Seriously?" you chuckle

"bag him or something, maybe he’s into you! "

"I'm not gonna hit on a customer"

"Hit on who?" Arlan, a co-worker and also a friend buts in.

"One of the new regulars is cute" Chiyo explains

"You can try taking him out or something, but leave me out of it" you defend yourself.

"Ooo what's he look like?" Arlan asks, and Chiyo explains Chisaki's appearance to Arlan.

"Ohh..." he pauses, "I think I saw him earlier, was Haruo serving him?" he sits next to Chiyo.

"Yeah!" she exclaims

"Bro he does not like Haruo"

"I know" she giggles "he's already gotten used to [name], hopefully he’s into them”

"Oooooh, you know what, he is kinda hot though, he has this whole bad boy aesthetic going on with him”

"Seriously? You reaaaaaalllyyy gotta show me him" she whines.

"Next time I see him I'll bring you" you affirm her.

"Alright!".

A few days go by, you're wiping down one of your tables with Clorox wipes as you're about to go on lunch break. Suddenly you see Arlan to your left sprinting- trying to sprint but, also staying modest and civil in the middle of a rather fancy restaurant and it's honestly the funniest thing you've seen. You laugh at his stupid antics.

“BRo- the- the” he stumbles on his words and he looks behind you. you turn to your right and see the hostess placing Chisaki and his group in your area. You nod to her in understanding, then you look back at Arlan who smiles at you. He whisper-shouts “ill be with Chiyo”

After you finish wiping down the table, you dispose of your gloves in the nearest trash can, putting on new ones as you walk towards the table. You cock your head to the side in a friendly manner, scanning the participants. Chisaki, Kurono, Irinaka, no old man, but some blonde older looking man in his stead.

“Hello? How may I get you started? The usual?”

“Mhm, thanks” Kurono answers, you can tell Chisaki is starring at you. You consider taking a look at him before Kurono speaks up.

“Out of curiosity, where were you last time?”

“Oh? Oh, uhh, I don't think you guys were placed in my workspace.”

“Oh okay,” he turns away in understanding, before taking another glance at you. It seems like he wants to say something but he takes no action in doing so.

“Is that all?” you ask hastily, and you feel awkward.

“yea”

You turn to get their drinks, and as you’re filling up their cups you think about Chiyo. Well, you're about to go on lunch break. You take the drinks along with you as you go to the area in which she usually resides. She isn’t there, huh? You turn back, there's no point in wasting time. As you're walking back you pass by the bar and you see Chiyo sitting next to Arlan. Arlan notices you and nudges Chiyo’s shoulder before telling her something. She gets up and pats her uniform and walks over to you.

“Soooo…. You're about to go on lunch break right?” she inquiries.

“Yup, you know what I'm about to ask.” The two of you giggle.

You make your way to the table, the blonde and Irinaka engaged in conversation. Kurono seems hyper-aware of the place because he notices you immediately. His attention flying towards you catches Chisaki’s, who now has your full attention, giving you and Chiyo a better look at his face. Chiyos expression lights up as she whispers something in your ear.

“Ohhh…. My god. He's so..” she says in awe “Why is he wearing a mask”

“Hyugo syndrome”

“Oohhhh”.

You place their drinks down in front of them, Chisaki watching every action. You wonder if the others at the table have noticed, Kurono definitely has. You wonder why they watch you so intensely. It reminds you of how Arlan said that he probably had a puppy crush on you a few weeks ago. You found it so silly then, but now you are actually considering it. Chiyo emerges next to you, Chisakis eyebrows furrow in question.

“So my lunch break is about to start. This is Chiyo, she will be with you while I'm unavailable”. Your gesture towards her and she waves to them excitedly. Kurono scans her nodding, before looking at Chisaki, whose face immediately fell at the information. You had to hold back a giggle. “I'll be back in about 30 minutes.” you turn and depart, taking a few glances towards the table and Chiyo.

You watch as she tries to make conversation but is immediately shut down by Chisaki who’s clearly not interested in chit chat. What the hell? You suppress another giggle, you really were his favorite. You don't know how to feel about that.

You come back 30 minutes later to an unnerved Chiyo, no group in sight. You give her a curious look and she tells you what happened. She tried starting a small conversation with them but was met with no enthusiasm, then the Irinaka (whom she referred to as “monochrome toucan”) was going to call her a noisy bitch but it seems the blonde man whose name she didn't get cut him off. Overall it was not a fun experience and Chisaki seemed annoyed with her every move.

“Holy shit?”

“Yeah, you know Arlan is right, you are his favorite” she giggles seemingly unfazed.

“Sorry for, uh putting you in that situation” You rub your neck.

“Nah, you're good” she reassures you, “the Kurono guy was kind of cute, he and the blonde man were the only ones who like- tried being civil.” she giggles. You scrunch your eyes and smile along with her.

It’s Sunday, the restaurant closes early. Hyugo sent you on an errand, for cleaning supplies. You just came out of one of the local stores, six bags in hand, and you're heading towards the next. Thankfully everything in this area is very walkable, maybe you treat yourself. You’re at the crosswalk waiting for it to signal you to walk. There are many people out right now, most students, are coming home from cram school. So you're not surprised when someone, or rather some people walk up next to you.

“Oh! It’s you!” The elderly man laughs. “You look so different without your mask it was hard to recognize you!” you turn to him, and next to him are Chisaki, Kurono, and the blonde man.

“Oh! How are you?” you ask

“Good, just picked up these two from cram school. We like going on walks after, what are you doing?” he points to your bags.

“O-oh! Just running errands for the restaurant. Cleaning supplies."

“Is it heavy?”

“Nah! I used to i-”

“Chisaki, why don't you help her!”

His “Oh!" comes out a bit muffled due to his mask. He hesitates for a moment, before approaching you signaling for you to give him a few bags.

“It's fine!” you try to assure him

“No, I insist” you hear him speak, something he does rarely. This is the first time he speaks to you though. He seems annoyed at having to help you. He looks down at you, making eye contact. You two stay still for a moment.

“Fine…" you falter, handing him two bags. You even out the bags so two are on each hand.

“Are you going back to the restaurant?” the old man asks, you nod. “do you not go to cram school?” he asks Curiously. You shake your head, and “oh I see” comes out in response.

He’s quiet for a while before asking, “How’s school then? Getting good grades- or are you a troublemaker?” His last sentence seems aimed at someone in particular.

“Uhm, I get good grades- except for chemistry! I stay out of trouble for the most part, I guess.”

“For the most part?” He gives you a curious look

“Well most kids like do something bad at this age, at least once, like drugs or something. I don’t really… do anything”

“Hmm…” he takes a moment, pondering.

“No you should be proud, don’t ruin your life or abandon your morals, it starts small but it might spiral downhill. Stay out of trouble.” Your a bit taken by his wisdom. You can’t put a finger on it but you can’t help but feel like his words are also aimed at someone. He turns to Chisaki, your eyes widen slightly. He pauses slightly before looking back at you. “Chemistry, huh? Chisaki’s got a knack for chemistry. If you want he could tutor you. You seem like the right crowd”. Chisaki looks like he's about to object but decides against it. You're in front of the restaurant. The old man looks a you and hands you a card, you take it and them as Chisaki hands you your bags. You wave them off and head into the restaurant. You set your bags down and look at the card, ‘Shie hassaikai’ it says with a number beneath it and its symbol on top. You take a mental note to search them up. For now, you focus on the bags at hand… FUCK, you needed to go to the second store. You'll do that after school monday.

You head upstairs to your room after putting the groceries away. You write down a little note for hyugo and pull out your phone. In the search bar you search up ‘shie hassaikai’.

Its a yakuza group.

Oh! Thats nice, your a bit taken back, when you think if the yakuza you think of some crude thugs, or like in the video games. But, they were, regular, normal people. You think back to the conversation you had with the elderly man. it seemed chisaki was a delinquent, hmm. You dont know how to feel at this newfound information. Oh well, you sigh and get ready for bed.

While you're getting ready for school your mind drifts to Chisaki. You remembered how the old man mentioned he was good at chemistry, you wonder if he was good at all his classes. He looks smart. As you leave and get set for your expedition to the school you wonder what school he goes to. Do yakuza go to fancy-schmancy schools? Is he rich? What route does he take to school? What cram school does he go to, is it a fancy one? Tons of questions, no answers.

You meet up with Chiyo where your paths intertwine. She greets you and you two go on with your way to school.

The two of you sit in your seats. She pulls out her stationary, all cute, adorned with stickers and bear accessories alike, and that one Vocaloid, IA. You pull out your necessities for the first class. Waiting for class to start.

Hyugo, albeit disappointed, understood why you failed to get the groceries yesterday. So, here you are, walking home from the store, with yesterday's unfinished errands being the mission. Chiyo had to rush home to the restaurant for some kitchen prep or whatever. You make it inside the big store and head for the cleaning aisle. You're scanning the shelves for the required items while playing with your hoodie strings. You pick them out and place them in the basket. You wonder what other students who have cram school are doing, some are probably at piano lessons or doing sports. You don't know how to feel, education isn’t going to be your thing, unfortunately, you are a blue-collar worker through and through. And Japan is extremely competitive, maybe if you really wanna pursue your passion you could, but that's only a dream. It's okay though, you're kind of content with working at the restaurant for the rest of your life. It's well paying and you owe it to Hyugo, for taking you in, and Chiyo for being by your side.

You pay for the items and head out. You know the routes and how to get around especially when it comes to stores and shopping. When Hyugo first took you in, you were too young to actually work at the restaurant, so he had you doing errands in the meantime. There's this shortcut to the restaurant, it's in an alleyway, more like a collection of alleyways, but every time you’ve gone through it, nothing happened. It's sketchy looking but no one really resides in it. Everyone pretty much just uses it as a shortcut. You walk in, pulling your hood up. Some of the walk is silent, until some dude pops up, okay. Weird, but you try not to think too much about it. You speed up your walking, just a little bit so he doesn't notice. Unfortunately, he did notice, and his pace accelerates along with yours. You start feeling worried now. You know he's gonna try and pull some shit, what the fuck, you've just gotta make it to the other side with other pedestrians or something. He speeds up, fuck shit- Hes just about to grab you-

“Ryo.” The voice comes from one of the other halls. It's that of a hunter hunting down its prey, It gives you chills. The man who was once following you stops in his tracks. So do you, you should get out, but, curiosity is getting the better of you.

“Kai.”

“Haven't I told you to stay off our turf?” the voice asks maliciously, but somewhat muffled.

“Fuck off, i don't gotta do what e’r your bitchass wants.” He grabs you, taking you by surprise. Whatthefuck leavemeoutofit. By the footsteps, you can only assume the man is coming closer. Holy shit, are you gonna die here. Hes surely gonna do something illegal, and he probably won't allow a witness. You shut your eyes and the man lets go, you're looking at the ground, frozen in fear. The two men get closer, and the dude who was following you extends his arm like he's gonna fight, too bad the other guy does it first.

Your cathartic, one second two guys were about to square up, and now ones blood is splattered. You have to fight the urge to let out a scream and you look at the perpetrator who seemed like he was about to kill you too. You two make eye contact and realize the two of you are familiar with each other, he stops his hand in the air. He steps back.

“that villain policy, does it still apply?” You're dumbfounded, but reply anyway.

“Yeah…”

“Good.” he pauses,

“You, uhh..” you trail off, you're having trouble trying to think straight. “Thanks for helping me… I guess”. His eyes widen,

“I'm not a hero” he emphasizes the ‘not’.

“I never said that, I just thanked you.” He lets out a huff, and then he turns to walk away, “Uh thanks! I mean it, I owe you!.”

He continues walking away. you take that as a sign to do the same. Walking back to the restaurant trying to pretend like everything is fine.

You look at everything you can, anything to get your mind off what just went down. It happened so fast, in a matter of minutes. It was almost unreal, did it even happen? Or were you just fucking making shit up? Was that his fucking quirk? Fucking exploding people. Jesus. Does he do this often? You exhale shakily, just pretend everythings fine you tell yourself.

Clearly, you did a bad fucking job at it. When you enter from the back you run into hyugo.

“Holy shit you good?”, he asks you franticly. Arlan, who was in the vicinity looks your way, his face contorting into worry. God, it feels like all eyes are on you, even though they aren't, the restaurant is pretty busy, and it's only Hyugo and Arlan, you look beside Hyugo… and the elderly man who accompanies Chisaki, upon seeing him you panic more. His face went from worry to curiosity.

“N-Nothing. It's fine.” you stammer out, wow, soooooo convincing. “I don't wanna talk about it”. It seems they all got the memo, except the old man, who approaches you.

“Was it Chisaki”. Right on the fucking bullet, you suck at lying and you don't know how you're gonna get out of this. You stare at him stupidly. “I see.” his face darkens, and you feel the need to defend him. If Chisaki killed that man, maybe he would kill you for tattle-telling on him.

“N-no” you stammer on the ‘N’ an ungodly amount of times, youre sure you look like a dumbass right now. “He uh, I guess saved me from some creepy uh dude. Uh, but it wasn't… in a very… nice… way.” your voice gets quieter with every word. He looks at you with an unreadable expression. “He didn't hurt me though!” you try to salvage it franticly. You two go quiet for a moment before he responds.

“Okay, I understand”

You don't remember much after you, just waking up in bed. Your mind is groggy as you try to remember the events of… you check your phone, yesterday. You recall Hyugo telling you to go to bed, that you didn't need to work considering the shaken-up condition you were in. You sighed in bed. You look back at your phone and scroll through the notifications. Nothing, thank god Arlan didn't tell Chiyo, she probably would've been on your ass asking if you were okay. God, what the hell? You bury your face in your hands.

#overhaul x reader #kai chisaki #overhaul #chisaki kai #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader

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