#i accidentally lost the first draft and had to do it again and I Am Not Mad

[anisespice]

“ baby steps ” || tokyo rev. pt. 2

continuation of this post.

pairings: bonten x fem!reader [ kaku, rin, koko ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, mild angst w/ comfort (mostly comfort), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), more on the lighter side compared to the first parts, this one doesn’t feel as “:((“, mentions of misbehavior and it’s slightly glorified? vandalism? and i think that’s it :))

notes: IF YOU SAW THE FIRST DRAFT/ACCIDENTAL POST OF THIS NO YOU DIDNT 🫵🏾😀. God this took me so so long, I kept changing ideas, and then getting new ones on top of those changes and ugh, and the next thing I know it’s FREAKING MIDNIGHT AND I HAVE WORK IN SIX HOURS :D but it’s fine it’s fine b/c it is DONE. Thank you so so so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy!

notes ii: not proof read, probably loads of typos, but will edit accordingly.

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow , @captaincyberqueen , @cherryblossiren , @niragiswhore , @awkwardaardvarkforever , @valentsoup , @lovely212 , @miffysoo , @yandere-kouhai , @i-am-just-a-girl-ur-honor , @wisteriarose214 , @kindadolly , @yuwaimo , @sweetbella1221 , @simpingfor-wakasa , @sirachano0dles , @yutahg , @slowlikehonee , @blurpleuni-squid , @haruchiyoreen , @istanstraykidss , @loyard176 , @msluccapotato , @luv444lay , @backgroundcharactera , @jegelskeranime , @magalimachete

KAKUCHO felt a lot of things at the moment. It ranged from nausea, to anticipation, to straight up panic as if he were actively being hunted for sport. But, instead of imminent danger, he was standing in the middle of the parking lot outside of your apartment building, flowers in hand, dressed in his Sunday’s best.

Cliche? Yes. Over the top? Absolutely.

But he was willing to risk his pride if it meant showing you his devotion, his determination in making things right. With every step he took, growing closer and closer into your world, into the world he chose to leave in the first place, his heart harshly thudded in his ears, thankfully drowning out those doubtful thoughts that plagued him ever since he saw you beneath those cherry blossoms not too long ago.

Before he knew it, he was standing at your door.

His grip around the flowers was deathly, blood cold as ice, sweat forming at his hairline. Kakucho gulped, reaching up to tug at his collar. The suit was tailored, and yet it never felt more suffocating. He could faintly hear your son’s screams of joy just beyond the door, followed by your sweet voice. It was pretty late, and Kakucho assumed the little guy would’ve been in bed by now. This only added more stress to his full plate. It would be hard enough trying to face you again, but to face your child as well? His flesh and blood?

“Oh, god…” he muttered, the reality starting to cave in.

He couldn’t do this…he wasn’t ready. Maybe he could try again tomorrow…or the next day…or the next— The front door clicks.

Next thing he knew, it was wide open. And there you stood, son on your hip and all. Kakucho had never felt more unworthy of such a tender sight in all his life, wanting nothing more than for whatever god above to smite him down so that he may die a happy man. You looked so healthy, face fuller and curves to show how kind the years have been. Your son eyed Kakucho curiously, fist in his mouth as he suckled on his hand. His eyes nearly popped out of his head, feeling like a bug under a spotlight. His lips trembled, words lost with only chopped intakes of air in their place, and soon came the tears.

You didn’t look angry. You didn’t even look perturbed.

If anything you looked…expectant. As if you were awaiting his arrival.

“[_]-..[____]…” he eventually spoke, meekly. You offered him a small smile, adjusting the boy from one hip to the other. “I..I don’t.. how’d you…?”

You gestured to the flowers. “Ms. Toshinori called. Said an old ‘regular’ came by requesting a big order of my favorites. And that she was happy to hear that we were… working things out.”

Kakucho’s brows furrowed. Then, came realization. It didn’t even occur to him where he was purchasing the flowers from, it’d been so long, he didn’t think twice. He used to visit Ms. Toshinori’s little flower shop on his way home from work just to see your smile. He supposed old habits die hard. “At first, I thought she was mistaken, chalked it up to old age and… I didn’t really have the heart to correct her. But, then I saw you standing in the parking lot. For quite a while.”

Kakucho flushed, gaze shifting away. You chuckled, your son resting his head on your shoulder while he fiddled with your necklace. “By the time you decided to come up here, I had already made up my mind. Figured if you’re going through all this trouble, then…it couldn’t hurt to pretend just this once.”

“Pretend..?”

“…That we’re working things out.”

Kakucho felt a slight pang, a bitterness blooming from the pit of his stomach and into his throat, like bile after a long night of drinking. A weak smile grew on his face, “For how long.. would we pretend?”

He spared a glance at you both, soaking in as much of it as he could in case it would soon be the last. You hummed in thought, reaching up to take the necklace’s charm out of your son’s mouth. “Not sure. This little one can play pretend for hours, sometimes days.”

You gently bounced your son making him giggle, snuggling his face into your shoulder. Kakucho’s smile grew wobbly, catching on quick to what you were insinuating. “I see…well. Lucky for all of us, I’ve got plenty of time to play pretend…”

Gnawing on your lower lip, you gave him a look that was full of yearning, years worth of unspoken words and unanswered questions hidden in the storm that was your gaze. Kakucho probably didn’t look any different, the dark circles under his eyes could tell a thousand stories. All of them with one ending—You. Always you.

Looking down at your son, you looked back at Kakucho with a tender smile and gestured to the flowers once more, “Trade ya?”

Kakucho stiffened, eyes widening ever so slightly. “Won’t that…upset him?”

“Trust me.” You reassured, already in the process of handing him over. Kakucho stuttered in his steps, especially when your son was already reaching out to him, content. “He’s real cuddly. When you’re calm, he’s calm.”

You happily took the flowers from his hands, noticing the poor stems had been slightly crushed beneath his iron grip. Kakucho adjusted his hold on the boy, making sure he was comfortable, and not weirdly positioned. “Seems rather…dangerous, don’t you think? For him to be ok in a stranger’s arms so…easily?”

“Not if that stranger is his father.”

His breath hitched. Kakucho felt that lump in his throat grow, making it hard for him to swallow. Watery eyes gazed down at the small child as he reached up to trace his scar, curious eyes taking him in, no fear, no disgust…just pure. Kakucho allowed a few tears to fall, blessed to be in this moment when he felt in his soul that he didn’t deserve it.

“What’s…what’s his name?”

After inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers, a warmth spread through you that you hadn’t felt in a while. You knew this wouldn’t automatically make things ok again, it would take some time, some more healing to even scratch the surface. But with him right back where he belonged, safe and alive, and with you…you figured this was at least a start. You watched as father and son interacted for the first time, savoring the memory so that it’s deeply etched into you like a tattoo. And with a gentle hum, you replied.

“Izana.”

You wasted no time high tailing it out of the gym.

After the initial shock passed, RINDOU didn’t even have the chance to make awkward small talk with you before you’re giving him a half-assed “thanks”, turning heel and booking it for the nearest exit. The last thing he saw before you disappeared through the doors was the confused, but sad look on little Rintaro’s face as he waved goodbye.

He couldn’t even blame you for the abrupt exit. With how he ended things with you way back when…he wouldn’t want to speak to him either.

Rindou stood there, feeling a little…lost. Discombobulated? He couldn’t exactly pinpoint the word, but he knew he didn’t like it. Does he just go about his day? Continue his workout, then go home like none of this happened? Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. Not when he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind, those little contextual clues given to him by the young boy, that he wouldn’t piece together until he was already laying in bed that night, wide awake.

Roughly four years…mom is his ex…no dad in the picture…

“Shit.” He cursed into the darkness.

—

With the street lights illuminating his path, guiding his muscle memory to surroundings he remembered all too well from many nights in the past, Rindou couldn’t sleep without knowing the truth, without having some sort of closure to the numerous thoughts that wouldn’t allow him a wink.

Wearing nothing but old sweats and hoodie, he practically raced through the night until he was standing outside of the diner you, hopefully, still worked at. It was one of those open late joints, a ‘ma and pop’ sorta spot where the atmosphere and food always made it seem like coming to a second home. Frantically, he looked through the store window, panting to the point where you could see his breath fogging the glass. He was begging, praying to catch a glimpse of your familiar frame, not knowing what else he would do to find answers if you weren’t there. Certainly you long blocked his number, no doubt moved out of the apartment you also shared many nights in together…

Knock, knock, knock.

Rindou jumps in his skin, not expecting the intruding sound to cut through his internal crisis. It wasn’t a harsh sound, if anything it barely held any weight behind it. He looked around, eyes wide with caution…had he cracked? Hearing things now?

Knock, knock, knock.

He blinked in mild annoyance, thinking someone was dicking with him until, in his peripheral, he saw little hands waving at him from below. Rindou looked down, and didn’t know whether to be relieved or unnerved. There, in all his excitement of seeing his new gym buddy again, Rintaro waved at Rindou with a big smile, cheers of his name muffled through the glass. His prayers were answered; you did still work there.

“Rintaro, are you being a good boy like mommy asked..?”

When you came back to the front to the sound of your child celebrating, imagine your absolute horror to see your ex not once, but twice in the same day, standing outside your work. It was a hex, someone was definitely out to get you, or maybe the universe was testing your resilience, throwing mistakes from your past directly in your face like salt in the wound. Years it’s been since he tore your heart into pieces, years since those double lines appeared on the pregnancy test, years goddammit—So why now?

All that work of actively avoiding him, wasted, just because you wanted to work off a little bit of the baby weight, and couldn’t find a sitter. For a split second, you had the crazy thought that if you stood perfectly still, maybe he would get creeped out and leave. But, haven’t you learned by now that the universe wasn’t on your side? Your son was just tall enough to reach up and unlock the front door to the shop before you had the chance to stop him, with just one push of his tiny, sticky little fingers and your past merges in with your present.

“Rin-Rin!” He chanted as Rindou hesitantly opened the door, the bells chiming like a bad omen as he crossed the threshold. Rintaro extended his arms up, wanting to be picked up.

The walking mullet looked as if he was being asked to perform surgery, wide eyes darting between you and your son, as if uncomfortable to deny and uncomfortable to comply. He doesn’t ponder for long, testing the waters by granting the little boy his wish, picking him up and holding him securely to his side. Rintaro squealed, excited giggles escaping him for being so high off the ground. You couldn’t help but find the scene endearing…but there was no overshadowing the fatass elephant in the room.

You crossed your arms, awaiting for him to break the awkward tension, if he dared to do so. And to your surprise, he does. Rindou cleared his throat, holding Rintaro with one arm while the other rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh…hey.”

You raised a brow. Hey?? You remained silent, not dignifying that wack attempt at conversation with an answer just yet. If he squirmed, then so be it. It was the least you deserved. Rindou winced slightly at the silence, taking it as a bad sign.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here, of all places...”

“And where’d you think I would be?”

He shrugged, “Dunno…not here.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, well, bills gotta be paid and mouths gotta be fed. Didn’t exactly have many options. Besides, I don’t want to go anywhere else. The Nakamura’s have always treated me well. The pay’s good, and Rintaro gets to eat for free.”

Rintaro beamed, “I eat all my vegables!”

Rindou couldn’t help the small lift in the corner of his mouth. “That’s good. You’ll be big and strong in no time.”

The boy nodded eagerly, his enthusiasm infectious. Looking at him this closely, Rindou felt his chest tighten more and more as the truth he was looking for was staring him right in the face, babbling on about the heroes, or how many chicken nuggets he can eat in one sitting. It was like white noise in the moment, his eyes too busy taking in every eyelash, every freckle, every detail that so blatantly screamed Rindou Haitani.

“Rin.”

Both boys snapped from their stupor, turning their heads to look at you simultaneously. It was habitual to call him by his nickname, one that was also occasionally used for your son, and to have them both respond in that moment just felt like too much. You shakily inhaled, arms tightening around you like a hug, shielding from the unfortunate circumstances that you were gonna have to face head on. “Rinta. Will you be a sweetheart and help Mrs. Nakamura count the silverware? But only the spoons, ok?”

“But, mommyyy! Rin-Rin just got here! I wanna-!”

“Oi. Listen to your ma, little man.” He affirmed, setting him on the ground. Rintaro pouted up at him, but only received a playfully stern look. “We’ll talk again soon.”

Rintaro huffed, “Promise?”

Rindou hesitated, looking up at you. You served no aid as you avoided it, merely telling Rintaro once more to help in the back room. He sighed, “Yeah…maybe.”

The little boy deflated, but listened all the same as he ran to the kitchen through the swing-doors. You exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose. The two of you stood in silence, neither one eager to speak on what’s obviously troubling you both. Rindou sighed once more, walking over to a nearby table, flipping one of the chairs that was stacked on top to set it back on the floor. He does the same for the one across from him, a silent invitation that doesn’t go unnoticed…but it is ignored.

“What are you doing here, Rin?”

He ran a hand through his hair, “Tsk. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Don’t bullshit me.” You hissed, making sure to be mindful of your volume. “The gym was mere coincidence, but you came looking for me here. Why?”

“...Thought that’d be obvious.”

“Jesus,” you dryly chuckled, looking at him incredulously. “All this time, and you’re still an avoidant asshole. Can you just, for once, speak directly.”

Rindou frowned, “You want direct? Fine. That’s my goddamn son in there, and I wanna know why you’ve kept him from me-”

“Shh!” You quickly shushed, looking over your shoulder. “Keep your voice down.”

“Now who’s being avoidant.” He leaned back in the chair, one arm hanging over the back. “Well?”

“You know what, you’ve got some nerve demanding anything from me, from us. You gave up any involvement in my life when you decided that you didn’t want me anymore. That you didn’t want more with me, remember that?”

He did. Remembered like it was yesterday.

It was textbook, what was suppose to be casual sex gets ruined when feelings get involved. But, you weren’t even the first to fall. He was. And at the time, that frightened him. So much to the point he was willing to lie to avoid his own feelings, willing to hurt you to save face…a coward. And he wore that label ever since.

“It doesn’t matter…you still…still could’ve told me. I was a piece of shit, but I…I wouldn’t have let you go through that alone. You never should’ve went through that alone…”

The way he looked at you, with such sorrow…you could feel a crack in your resolve. With a scoff, you eventually find yourself taking the seat across from him, but angled away from him. He visibly relaxed, taking this as some form of resignation; a truce.

You fiddled with your fingers, looking down. “You were all he could talk about.” You muttered. Rindou hummed in question, leaning forward. “Rintaro. He was non-stop with how much he learned from you today, how big and strong you were…how he couldn’t wait to see you again.”

Rindou sat in silence, listening intently. You continued. “I love that little boy. With all my heart. And I want nothing but the best for him…and for the longest time I believed that couldn’t be you. And I think that’s why…I never told you.”

He swallowed, nodding stiffly. It wasn’t easy to hear, but he understood. You could both hear the faint chatter and clanking of Rintaro and Mrs. Nakamura in the back, filling the silence with something other than the weight of your words. “I’m sorry…for everything. I wasn’t…you needed me and I wasn’t there for you. I still regret it to this day. And I’ll continue to regret it knowing what you’ve gone through-”

“But.”

He paused, then perked up like a hound. “..But?”

“But, I’ll reconsider this if you can show me you’re committed. Not just to me…but to Rintaro. He doesn’t need someone who will come and go from his life, if you don’t think you’ll be a constant-“

“I do. I-I want to be. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You nodded, slowly, considerably. “Promise?”

He nearly snorted, the childish request reminding him all to well of the little someone just mere feet away sorting through spoons. Rindou crossed his heart, and extended his pinky. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, yet your humored him anyway by linking yours together.

“Promise.”

“Good,” you grinned. Then turned towards the kitchen to call out to your son, “Rinta! Rin-Rin said he’s gonna help you sweep the floors for mommy!”

“Yayyy!”

Rindou choked, looking at you, puzzled. “What—You making me do free labor now? That wasn’t part of the deal…” he grumbled, though not too upset. Especially with how eager Rintaro was. You shrugged, standing up to go balance the register.

“Think of it as your first test. Whatever it takes, remember?” You handed him a broom right when Rintaro came rushing out, practically driving for Rindou’s leg to latch onto.

He looked down at the beaming ray of joy, his sourness melting away with every passing second as he reached down to ruffle his hair. “Yeah. I remember.”

It was like walking into an active crime scene.

There were multiple security guards. Knocked over furniture, exotic plants ripped from their oversized pots, muddy shoe and handprints, broken glass everywhere.

And at the root of all the chaos, wearing a proud grin whilst clutching a necklace worth more than a mortgage in one hand and a chunk of…white hair strands in the other, stood your little angel.

You felt your knees buckle, one officer quick to steady you as another scrutinized. “Ma’am, I presume this is your missing child?”

“Look, mommy! I got the shiny! I got it!”

With curled in lips, you inhaled deeply through your nose before giving a small, resigned nod. You’re then immediately bombarded by a disheveled-looking woman with a crooked name tag attached to her blazer, who you immediately concluded to be the manager based on her aura alone. She was more than happy to berate and condemn you for your poor parenting skills, going on and on about the damages done, the embarrassment she was subjected to—“In all my years, I have never experienced such a tyrant of a child, such disregard to her elders, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, allowing such behavior! Honestly, you call yourself a mother?! If she were my child, I would’ve-”

“My deepest apologies.” You cut her off with a deep bow, mainly to shut her up but also to shut her up. You were about two seconds away from causing another scene, and the last thing you needed was extra charges added to the tab.

Truthfully, you were holding back laughter more than tears. Sure, it was all quite devastating, you were already kissing her college fund goodbye in order to levitate this situation. But, to think that such a small thing could cause such a large upset, in such a short amount of time?

Inspirational.

Plus, it’s not like anyone got hurt.

“WHERE IS SHE? WHERE’S THE FUCKING BITCH?”

Everyone in the room stiffened to statues, aside from your daughter, whom glared at the figure approaching from somewhere in the store. She quickly scampered over to hide behind your legs, necklace and chunk of hair still in clutch. Soon, you no longer needed to guess who the hair belonged to.

KOKONOI came onto the scene like a raging bull, ready to tear a new one into the womb-holder that birthed such a vicious spawn who had the audacity to rip out some of his glorious hair follicles. He had excused himself briefly to assess how much damage had been done, only to return once he caught wind that the mother was found. Security was quick to stand on either side of you to make sure you nor your daughter tried to make a run for it. The manager tried to hide her schadenfreude, but it was poor attempt at worst.

However, it would be short lived the second Koko’s eyes landed on you, and in real time everyone witnessed all of that steam just…evaporate. Fury no longer adorned his face, but instead in its place held something more unreadable.

“Ah. [______]. W-What a.. lovely surprise. It’s been a while...”

You blanched, “H-Hajime..? This is…this is your store?”

You really would be kissing that college fund goodbye.

Kokonoi blinked, “Hm? Oh! Yes, yes I suppose it is.” He blinked again as if this fact was just realized, looking around and frowning at the state it was in. “Belinda, for Christ’s sake, what do I pay you for if you’re gonna allow the place to look like a goddamn back alley?”

Said manager spluttered, fixing Koko with a widened stare look. Did his brain just completely reset itself of the last 30 minutes?? She looked at the security, then back at him, approaching it cautiously in case he snapped on her again, “S-Sir…the child.”

Kokonoi’s eyes drifted over to said girl currently glaring at him from behind your leg, diamond necklace dangling from her small neck and strands of his hair still in her fist like some sort of forewarning. He grimaced, brow twitching, but waved it off, “Right. Well, kids will be kids. No harm done.”

“H A H H H H H ????”

Even you were caught off guard. When he first came barreling in, you half expected him to make you sign away your soul in order to cover the hair salon trip let alone the property damage. Now? You would think it were a minor inconvenience not worth the time, or energy. Belinda looked gobsmacked, security standing with question marks above their heads like corrupted NPCs. Your daughter peered up at you with curiosity, maybe even confusion herself, with her lower lip jutted out as she tugged on your jeans.

She whispered, “Mommy, that man’s weird…”

Kokonoi’s eyes practically lit up, “Oh, so this little one is yours?”

“Uh,” you flushed, hands beginning to sweat. “Yes…she’s mine.”

“Fascinating. What’s her name?”

“…Yumeko.”

He hummed, crouching down to her eye level, “Yumeko. Such a haunting name, for a haunting little girl. Your mother chose nicely. I’ve always adored the name...”

She stuck her tongue out at him before hiding her face in your leg. He grinned, amused, like he was when he first met her. Kokonoi wasn’t certain what caused his shift in approach…the nostalgia, perhaps. Seeing an old flame, the one that got away and took his heart with her…the one whose gift that was never opened, once a display item now in the possession of your child…sweet irony, he believed. Poetic, even.

“Sir, I really think we should revisit the more pressing issue here.” Belinda interjected, receiving agreements from security.

“Yes, tell us how you’d like to proceed, and we can have these two escorted off the property-”

The white-haired man fixed the guard with a ghastly scowl, hissing a low threat, “Touch either one of them, and I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do in your pathetic waste of a life.”

Aside from you, everyone took a small step back. Used to these sort of threats, you lightly chastised him, “There’s no need for that.”

“Nonsense.” He looked at the manager, his gaze alone making her flinch. “Get this cleaned up. As of right now, none of this ever happened, understand?”

“B-But, sir-”

“I don’t like to repeat myself, Belinda. I’d advice you don’t make me.”

Belinda looked as if she were on the verge of combustion. But, she swallowed that feeling deep, deep down and gave a strained, “R-Right away, sir…”

Kokonoi nodded, then turned to the security, “You’re dismissed. And not a single report on this, or I’ll have the heads of your loved ones.”

“Hajime.”

He turned to you, and grasped your hand. “We’ve so much to catch up on. Come, we’ll discuss details somewhere private, you can tell me all about little Yumeko. I have many, many questions.”

“Haji-”

There was no room for protest. As he crouched to scoop up Yumeko in one arm and held your hand tightly in the other, borderline kidnapping, your daughter squirmed while you merely floundered, struggling to keep up with how fast things have escalated as he guided you both away from the mess he’d already forgotten.

“Hammy!” Yumeko screamed, of which made you backtrack for a split second to grab the piggy bank still sitting safe on top of the shattered display case.

Belinda and the security guards watched in disbelief. You parted with a stiff smile and nod, before skittering back to catch up with the white-haired gangster who was getting farther and farther with your child in tow.

Looking like a dysfunctional family already.

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[ravcnism]

STRIKEOUT. ( PART 2 ) — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: An after-party. A conversation-turned-confrontation. Kenji finally meets the esteemed Toyo Bullet and struggles to define the difference between anger, terror, and infatuation.

# # TAGS: Even More Tension, Kenji Has a Good Relationship with His Team, Intense First Encounter, Domestic Sato Family Shenanigans

# # WARNINGS: Mature Language, Alcohol Consumption, Nothing Too Crazy, No Beta Again We Die Like Onda

Note: Okay, here we go: the actual second part. Again, I am so sorry for accidentally publishing my draft earlier — I am ill with embarrassment. But I’m very happy to know that people look forward to it! If you read the false-post, then you’ve only read half of the chapter. This one has over 3000 words more! Enjoy.

“It was a nail-biter of a game here at the New Tokyo stadium tonight, folks. Right off the bat, both teams were going neck and neck, toe-to-toe. And it seemed like neither one was willing to give an inch! Our home team managed to pull off a narrow victory in the end, and by narrow, I mean narrow, Kiba.”

“That is absolutely right, Sasaki. I truly have never seen anything like it in my entire career. And you know- you know I know a lot of baseball. You know I’ve been doing this for many years, but wow! Just- insane.”

“Truly a close call. Eight additional innings? To break the tie? I cannot believe it. Let me tell you, neither the Hiroshima Toyo Carp nor the Yomiuri Giants wanted to lose today.”

“If you look at the crowd, It looks like everyone’s been wanting to go home.”

Exhausted was an understatement. Kenji hadn’t felt this drained after a game since, well, only months ago: when he was still juggling the responsibilities of raising a baby Kaiju, carrying the weight of being Ultraman, and maintaining his reputation as a well-known baseball player. All of these, on top of the sleepless nights, no longer hindered him from his work. He usually left the stadium feeling brand new every single time — regardless of whether they won or lost. He had grown and learned to lean on people, to ask for help, accept defeat. Which was good and all that, but the point was: he was exhausted from this game. You had him panting for air like an overworked dog.

Shimura had Kenji on the field for longer than he should have been. While his younger, more egotistical self might have loved his moment in the spotlight, running base to base for six innings in a row was unsurprisingly really tiring. The teams had hit a clean tie by the ninth inning, and the tie-breaker lasted for eight more. You were eating their rookies alive and having their journeymen for dessert. When Shimura realized that Sato was the only one batting your pitches, he had him play for every round after the tie. The only times Kenji wasn’t on the field was when you weren’t either. Which wasn’t a lot. It scared him how you looked like you could throw that ball for days.

“Hiroshima’s L/n is just- an absolute unit, isn’t he?”

“He certainly is, Kiba. He certainly is. I mean his performance was near inhuman tonight. Each pitch was a gem and we- he really wanted us to know that he’s here, he’s ready, and he’s willing to change Japanese baseball. He was a major force out there on the field.”

“I cannot agree with you more. But credit where credit is due, we all know that the only reason the Giants are coming home with tonight’s win is because of none other than Ken Sato himself.”

“That’s right, Sato really put up a fight. L/n was throwing him off balance every time, but he always found his footing. I think tonight might have been the hardest I’ve seen him work. You know he- he usually makes his plays look effortless — disregarding last season’s slump.”

“I say he held his own very, very impressively. The team was right to rely on him. I know we’ve spoken a lot about their tension, but I’d say it’s their dynamic that really drove the point home. They were like- mirrors of each other out there. When you put two equal forces together, they deflect. You know what I’m saying?”

Kenji’s hand shook with a weakness he wasn’t familiar with. He stared at his calloused palm and noticed his fingers twitching. Shit. It really was some game. He might have been hitting the ball, but he was barely getting it through the field. Not only were your pitches fast, but there was weight to them, too. He was witnessing the caliber of your capabilities; understanding why you were the talk of every city.

The rest of the Giants came walking into the locker room, jeering and laughing amongst themselves. “That L/n is a real piece of work, ain't he?” Shirakumo, number 24, sat himself next to Kenji, unlacing his shoe. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Did you see the look on Tateoka’s face?” Yuki laughed, smacking his thigh. “Dude was scared shitless!”

“Hey!” Tateoka frowned in reply, tugging his jersey off his arms. “You try standing in front of that guy and telling me you don't feel a little threatened.” He shuddered, remembering the look in your eyes. Dark and pointed and menacing. “He was staring me down like he was gonna—”

“Eat you alive?” Kenji scoffed.

The team went silent, then erupted into a cluster of teasing ‘oooh’s. God. It reminded him of highschool.

“Oohh, yeah.” Yamada, number 21, slid over to him with a teasing tone. He wrapped an arm around Kenji’s shoulder and squeezed him closer. “I don't think I've ever seen Sato so shaken!”

He laughed, playfully pushing him away. He was also actually really sore on that shoulder. Hell, he could already feel the pain he’d need to go through just to get up tomorrow. He was going to need another ice bath. The rest of the boys jumped in on the jokes.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you Ken?” Tokuda opened his locker, grabbing a shirt from the top shelf. He whistled. “Like he wanted your head on a plate.”

Tanaka chuckled. “He wanted you dead, man!”

Kenji rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Let's not get carried away. I never said I was shaken.”

“But that last bat was sweet as hell.” Yuki nodded. “I doubt any of us would've gotten through the guy if it weren't for Sato.”

“Well, duh.” Shirakumo shrugged. None of the Giants denied it. Ken was their star player. And tonight proved it more than ever. “We owe you for drinks, bud. Give us a date and we'll treat ya’ to someplace you like.” He slapped Ken’s back affectionately, which elicited a pained groan. “Shit, sorry.”

Kenji’s watch started beeping. He flinched at the sound, eyes widening slightly. “Uh, see you in a sec, guys. I gotta take this.”

He was there a moment, then gone the next. Kenji rushed himself out the hallways and into an empty locker room to answer Mina’s call. “Hey!” he greeted, anxiously. A screen projected itself from his watch and lit up his face. “Hey. Hi. What's wrong? Everyone alright? I know I said I'd be home soon, but the game took way longer than–”

He was interrupted by cheering. His father clapped and whooped with excitement as Emi occupied the background, screeching with glee. Kenji could see the ground shaking as she was jumping around and doing her special dance. One of Mina’s arms was protruding from the wall and waving celebratory flags. It immediately put a smile on his face, easing the tension from his shoulders. He was always happy to see everyone alright, and even happier to see them as their silly selves.

“Kenji!” cheered Hayao. “That was an incredible game! You were unstoppable!” The professor chuckled. Emi picked him up into a hug, slightly toppling the camera over. His legs swung like a ragdoll’s. “Okay, okay girl-”

Ken laughed, slightly shaking his head. “Easy, Emi. Put Grandpa down.”

“It was a very impressive game, Ken. Perhaps one of your bests.” Mina’s calculative yet affectionate voice echoed from his watch.

Hayao fell to the floor with an ‘oof’. “You didn't tell me you were playing against THEE Mets’ Bullet!” He scrambled to stand up, barely leaning on his cane. “I wasn’t even aware that he was signed into the Carp!”

Kenji’s smile immediately faded. “Okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He was alright, I guess. And we don’t actually know if he signed into it or if he was traded. We barely heard anything about him from the press.”

“Alright?” Professor Sato gasped, appalled. “Kenji, he was spectacular! He’s a lot like you, you know. I’ve always suspected that the both of you equalled in skill, but to see it in action? Phew.” He wiped some pretend sweat off of his forehead. “What a show! Eight extra innings to break a tie? Unbelievable! I highly doubt that he was traded. Who in their right mind would purposely lose a player like that?”

Kenji scoffed. “He wasn’t that good.” His sore limbs would like to say otherwise.

“He had you chasing after his pitches like a dog!”

“I don’t like that analogy.”

“I ought’ to rewatch that documentary they made about him. You know they’ve done studies on the physics of his throws.”

“Dad.”

“And how fortunate for Hiroshima to have gotten him out of all teams! I can tell that this season is going to turn around really fast. Just today he’s already scored-”

“Dad!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Hayao chuckled. “I’m just very excited to see the both of you on the same field.” Kenji sighed, nodding his head. “Anyway, congratulations on the win, my boy. I’m so proud of you. I always am. Get home safe. It may be late, but we still have a lot of leftovers from dinner!” Emi made a noise that let him know she was waiting, too.

Going home sounded like heaven. Ken wanted nothing more but to rest. Maybe kick back and have a chocolate shake while he and his family watched cartoons to fall asleep. It was the perfect way to end his night. It had been an unexpectedly long day and he looked forward to tomorrow’s well-earned break. Eight extra innings might even win him a second day of rest. Or a third, if Shimura agreed not to schedule him for the next game. Which, he doubted, if it meant you’d be playing.

“I’m on my way.” He ended the call, and opted to take the fastest way out, desperate to avoid the press.

Ken collapsed onto the floor, snuggling into Emi’s arm. Having washed up and eaten his dinner, he felt the last remains of his adrenaline-fueled strength die out like a dwindling flame. He felt as if his limbs were about to fall off. “Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Emi didn’t much care. She seemed to be preoccupied by the new ( gigantic ) stacking blocks that Mina made for her. Ken sighed, sinking deeper into her arm. “She always smells so good after her baths.” The baby Kaiju’s warm and heavy grasp felt like a weighted blanket. It was a comfort that Ken would find nowhere else.

Professor Sato walked past them, chuckling into his coffee mug. “That, she does. You should have seen her earlier, you know. I’ve never seen her so invested in a game.”

Kenji hummed. “Is that right?” He rolled onto his stomach, facing Emi. “Hey. Baby.” He poked her cheek. “Is that true? Did you cheer for Daddy? I bet you did.” Giving into his cuteness aggression he rubbed at her cheeks. Emi expressed her annoyance through a small squeak. “God, that mean old Bullet had Daddy running laps, didn’t he? We hate him, don’t we?” Kenji pushed her cheeks up and down, leading her into a nod. “Yes we dooo.”

Professor Sato laughed. “Whatever happened to sportsmanship?”

“Whatever happened to loyalty?” He pouted. “My own father, rooting against me. I would never root against you, Emi.” Wanting to return to her blocks, Emi lifted Kenji up by his torso and placed him on her head. The batter laughed, laying on her with no protest.

“What!” The professor exclaimed. “I never said I was rooting against you. I was just— feeling enthusiastic, that’s all. For both teams.”

Mina entered the room, her mechanisms humming faintly. “Good evening, everyone.” The Sato’s greeted her accordingly. “I have a message for Ken.”

The mentioned Ken slumped into his daughter, rolling his eyes. “Here we go. I bet it’s the press.” He scoffed. “Let me guess, at least 30 emails asking for my statement. Or, better yet, it’s Shimura warning me not to miss the next game.” He raised his fist, mocking a reporter’s tone: “We’ve witnessed baseball history tonight, folks! Blah, blah, blah.”

“Actually, it’s an invitation for something else.” Mina hovered closer. “An event.”

This caught his attention. Kenji tilted his head. “For what?”

“A party, hosted by various sponsors.”

“Bit too early for an afterparty, don’t you think?” Ken sighed, resting his head on folded arms. “We’ve only won one game.”

“I suppose it’s to celebrate Mr. L/n as well.” Mina would shrug if she had the shoulders to do so. “His coming to Japan is quite a big deal.”

“Great.” Kenji was half-asleep by then, eyes already closed. “All the more reason for me not to go.” The professor had settled himself onto one of the desks, getting into some light reading. Emi had grown tired herself, and decided that she was not interested in the blocks anymore. Waddling to her spot, (with Kenji still on her head), she yawned, and opted for some much-needed sleep.

Mina’s light blinked. “I think you should go, Ken.”

The rightfielder cracked one eye open. “And why would I do that?”

“I think it would benefit you to interact with Mr. L/n more.”

“Mina, that’s literally the last thing I want.”

“Is it?”

Ken frowned. “What do you mean, ‘is it’? Of course it is.”

“Your vitals seemed to say otherwise earlier.”

Kenji scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was keeping careful watch of your vitals, as I always do. I have your daily status tracked and recorded.”

Kenji couldn't get rid of Mina’s voice in his head. Even amidst the warm crowd, with chatter swaying smoothly atop of light r&b music, he felt as if he could still hear her words ringing in the back of his mind. It remained vivid, though she had told it to him days ago. It was as clear as day. Like a broken record.

“Believe it or not, the heart beats differently for every emotion. There is a difference between fear, anxiety, excitement, and—”

Kenji stared at you from across the room, watching as you conversed with your team, nursing a glass of cold, hard whiskey. He watched as you bowed your head and smiled, listening for the faint, muffled sound of your laughter. He wondered what you were talking about; what joke might have made you grin that hard. He wondered why you seemed to illuminate a room, and why everyone seemed so drawn. His eyes were caught in the way the colorful lights sank into your hair.

“—Infatuation.”

You looked up, and your eyes met his. Kenji flinched. He felt his heart skip a beat. Shit, he thought. Mina was definitely going to catch that. She had probably already marked it down to tease him for it later. You held his gaze for longer than he could have standed and greeted him with that same annoying wink. The same one you gave him on the field. Confident, snarky, playful. You lifted your glass and took a sip, eyes still trained on his.

“What you may perceive as frustration for him might just be the opposite.”

Kenji's jaw clenched. Mina had no idea what she was talking about.

And he would prove her wrong tonight.

Like a soldier marching into battle, he waded through the party to make his way towards you. Was he intimidated? Yes. Unfortunately, he was. But he knew his way around a crowd, and his weapon-of-a-tongue knew all the right talk to make a conversation work. He was sociable like that. He was a poet, a wordsmith. If you weren't careful, one little exchange could have you wrapped around his finger. Some people called it his charisma, some blamed it on his irresistible good looks. Either way, Ken took it. He wasn't going to deny the fact that people loved talking to him — though he, admittedly, didn't really like talking to them in return. But he could do it. He could make it work.

Besides, how bad could you be?

With a newfound confidence, Ken dared to get closer. The distance between you and him lessened, and– oh, fuck, was that your cologne? He blinked. You smelled so good. Why did you smell so good? “Hey. Hi.” Shit. Abort mission. No, it's too late. Too awkward to back out. You were already looking at him. “L/n, yeah?” He spoke your name like he only just remembered you upon seeing you. When in truth, he hadn't stopped thinking about you since that damn first pitch. “Some game, huh?” Ken held his hand out for you to shake. ‘Fuck, I hope he doesn't notice how clammy it is.’

“Ken Sato.” It was the first time he heard your voice, as well as the first time he heard you say his name. He didn't like how his body reacted. There was a small shiver down his spine, a tingling flutter in his chest. You took his hand. Yours was cold. So cold. Kenji concluded that the icy glass of whiskey you had placed on the counter was to blame. He could feel your callouses against his. Your hands mirrored one another, marked with the battlescars of your sport. He was oddly sensitive to every detail. Touching you was.. a sensation.

You gave him a firm shake before promptly letting go.

“That's me,” he said, miraculously. Ken was oscillating between panic and confidence at a speed that likely wasn't normal. He was holding his own, though. Like the real champ he was. It was surreal to be standing in front of you without a ball to keep you apart. No bat, no competition. Just you, and a few shots of alcohol. “You adjusting into Japan alright?”

“As well as I can.” You shrugged. You had a tone to you; an elegant air of grace and self-assurance. You had no need to raise your voice because you knew he'd do his best to listen. It was pissing him off. “It's definitely different from the States.”

“I gotta say, I'm pretty surprised to see you here.” Ken usually knew what to say when it came to conversations. He never blanked out at interviews, nor left dead air hanging at conferences. But speaking with you made him feel like his vocabulary was on a limit. “After a game like that?” He whistled. “A lesser man would've taken a week off.”

“But we're not lesser men, are we, Ken?” A waitress passed by. Without the need to look, you had grabbed two shots of vodka from her tray. You handed the other one to him. “That's why you're here, too.”

He stared at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Exactly.” He took the shot from your hand and bumped the rim against yours. “Cheers.”

You grinned. “Cheers.”

Kenji tilted his head back, downing his drink, tasting the fire run down his throat. His face screwed up a little, but not enough for you to notice. You did the same, sighing the heat out of your nose. You allowed a small laugh to slip past your lips. “Japan’s liquor is surprisingly stronger.”

Kenji chuckled. “Yeah. If you know where to look.” The music felt like it was growing louder. He leaned in to speak to you better. “You know, I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting.”

You nodded. “Neither can I.”

“The Mets and Dodgers have always been at each other's throats, and yet—”

“Our schedules just never lined up.” You scoffed. “What are the odds of that, huh?”

It really was such a coincidence. If Ken had known that your interactions would've fired the press up as much as it did now, he would've fought to face you sooner. “When was it?” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Playoffs. 2019, I think. The Mets were set to face the Dodgers.”

“2019,” you repeated, brows raised. “I was there.” Kenji took notice of the way your head slightly shifted to the side. Like you were trying to get a better look at him. He swallowed thickly. “I was there.” You shrugged. “You weren't.”

“I was overseas.” He was wanting another drink. But, speaking to you was surprisingly not horrible. “Didn't get back until 3 months in. And when I did—”

“I wasn't there,” you chuckled. “Alright. I remember. 2019, I was gone for half the season. Injury.”

“The world was in shambles.” Ken grinned at you. A second waiter passed by. He grabbed you another glass of whiskey. He took scotch for himself. “See what I mean? It's like– divine intervention.”

“Big word.” To say that fate had a hand to play in yours and his meeting was beyond your beliefs. You didn't place your trust in things like that. But to know that he had thought about it was charming.

“Hey.” Ken shrugged. “Ya’ never know.”

The music shifted, and so did the lights. There was a moment of quiet between the both of you, and in that time, you found a common interest in people-watching. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor the absence of something to talk about. The two of you merely agreed upon the minutes it took to watch the party unfold. A good number of the guests were already drunk. The dance floor was alight and occupied mostly by women. Ken rested his weight on one foot, sighing at his still-aching muscles. He wondered if you were any sore too.

“They love it, don't they?” You leaned your back against the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Ken took quick notice of the necklace worn loosely around your neck. A silver dogtag, similar to his. “The drama. The intensity. Even the things that go on beyond the field.”

Ken shrugged. “It's baseball. Who doesn't?”

“Exactly.” You smiled. “Which is why it's important to always let the home team win the first game.”

It took a moment for Kenji to process what you said. He was distracted by the colorful lights, his favorite song coming on, and a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. “Mhm.” He reached over to take one, before— “Wait.” His brows knitted together. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Hm?” You had your lips pressed together into a thin line. Your expression feigned innocence, a stark contrast to your bold statement. “I said it's important to let the home team win the first game.”

Kenji made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. He couldn't believe his ears. Had he been standing by the speakers for too long? “No, I heard what you said. What I'm asking is what you're saying.” It was a dare of a reply, with a tone that commanded: go on. Clarify.

Your smile refused to leave your face. Nearing the batter, ever so carefully, you whispered:

“I'm saying you won because I let you.”

Kenji blinked.

And there it was. He knew you were too good to be true. Goddammit, he knew it! Beneath your seemingly-perfect self was something cold and rotten and he called it. He fucking called it. How thrilled he was to be correct, and oh, how utterly terrified.

But this was good. This was absolutely good. He needed something to hold onto, something to keep himself afloat. The next time he found himself drowning in your eyes again, he'd only need to remember that you were a grade A asshole. That you had the audacity to claim that you were in full control of the game. Surely it would solve all his problems.

Kenji broke out into a laugh. It started out as a small cluster of sarcastic chuckles, but erupted into actual laughter. You were funny. So, so funny. Unbeknownst him, you were watching with amusement. “Because you let me!” Kenji repeated, smiling, but, exasperated. Two can play at that game. “Right. Of course. Totally not because you're an average pitcher and I can bat anything you throw.”

“If that helps you sleep at night.” You shrugged. Your attention wasn't on him anymore. You were watching the crowd, disinterested.

Kenji felt his eye twitch. “That's big talk coming from someone who got struck out by a rookie.” He was referring to the eighth inning, when Tateoka managed to bat your pitch into a homerun.

“That's right, Sato.” You laughed, low and sultry. “Batted by a rookie. How could I have struck you out at the last inning but be batted by a rookie?” You tilted your head at him, brows knitted together. You spoke in a sickeningly soft tone. Like you were helping a toddler understand something simple. “Doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, does it?”

Kenji was growing flustered. His face was warm and his fist was itching to meet your cheek. Nobody spoke to him this way. Sure guys had been mean to him before, but it was mostly because they were threatened by him. They'd tried to put him down and pick apart his flaws, but what you were doing was something different. You weren't claiming that he was weak, you were claiming that you were stronger. You didn't deny the amount of talent that Ken had in his body, but you were fully convinced that you had more. You were bigger, smarter, and better. And you had him under your control.

“Oh, c’mon. Seriously?” God, your voice. It infuriated him. It drove him insane. You leaned in, closer, whispering your words, as if hearing you through the party wasn't hard enough. He could smell the whiskey on your breath. It mingled with your cologne. It was intoxicating. “Are you blushing?”

He scoffed in disbelief. “No.” Except he totally was. He could feel the heat radiating off of his face. His breathing had gone shallow, his heartbeat rapid. “Why would I– Tch. You— You don't know what you're talking about.” Holy shit. He was a mess.

He wanted so desperately to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew damn well he wasn't drunk enough to be acting the way he was. He was stumbling over his words stone-cold sober.

You were smiling. He was dying, and you were smiling. “You amuse me, Sato.”

Ken took a cautious step back, knowing that being that close to you for too long was only going to make him worse. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He had to retaliate somehow. Like a soldier fumbling for his sword, he had to get up and do something. “You don't think I don't know what this is? Where you're heading?”

You tilted your head. “Do enlighten me.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Sure. Celebrity-Athlete from America waltzes into Japan thinking he's the shit— that he can rule the world. He's a shiny new toy and everyone's just dying to catch a look. Nevermind that his old team traded him off, nevermind that he goes home to an empty penthouse. He's got the stats to prove his skills and he thinks he doesn't need anything else.” Ken dared to retake a step forward. He sort of regretted it when you didn't take a step back. “Well, guess what,” he continued. “I've been where you are. I know how you feel, what you're thinking.

Everything you're trying to be is a shadow of what I already was.”

There was a beat of silence. You weren't smiling anymore. You were staring at him, stone-faced, seemingly indifferent.

Kenji narrowed his eyes. “So don't go talking to me like you're any better.”

He didn't know what to expect. You were quiet for such a long time that he thought you were going to snap. He partially expected a punch to the chin. But you were calm. There wasn't a trace of irritation on your face. Instead, you set your glass of whiskey — now empty — on the counter behind you. With a sigh, you shoved a hand in your pocket. “Are you done?”

Kenji blinked.

“Let me tell you something, Sato.” You raised a brow at him. Ken felt his heartbeat pick up again. Your once-approachable gaze shifted into something cold and commanding. He swallowed thickly. “There is a difference between you and me. And that difference is the fact that I don't settle.”

Kenji was glaring at you, brows fixed together.

A teammate called you from the other side of the room. You nodded at him, once, then returned your focus to the Yomiuri Prince. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tauntingly, smiling at him as if you'd known him your whole life. “I hope last season’s slump accustomed you to the feeling of losing those points.”

Kenji wanted to say something, but his lips refused to move. Somehow, the blaring music in the background had faded into a muffled blur. All he could hear was your voice. Like a moth to a flame.

You winked at him. Again. And like before, his body reacted in ways he didn't like. You squeezed his shoulder once, before leaving to go to your friend. With your back turned against him, Kenji released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He clutched his chest, watching wide-eyed as you moved through the crowd. He could still smell your cologne. The last thing he heard from you was,

“I'll see you on the field.”

taglist: @fairy-lenaa @moonjellyfishie @witchygod — Thank you for your patience!

[etherealily]

ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ // ꜰʀɪᴇᴅʀɪᴄʜ ʜᴀʀᴅɪɴɢ

Friedrich Harding + fem!reader. Based on this ask <3

My other fics, if you have the time.

Note : Haven't done physics since high school, don't be smart alecks in the comments. Also, I somehow wrote pure love? No angst? Ew.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You're a modern marvel, and he's a futuristic businessman looking to invest.

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"Women are not common in this line of work."

His tongue's close to the mouth of his cigar, and he wonders for a moment if that may accidentally send off the wrong message. Entice you, perhaps. Seduce you. Inadvertently offend you.

"But not unwelcome?" A tilt to your lips. A sip of your wine, and his eyes reluctantly follow the drops down your throat as you gulp.

"Not at all." He's not sure how to do business with a woman, truly. He's trying to be respectful, but he's lost. Did that smirk mean you wanted his business or wanted him? Or both? Or neither?

"You are... a feminist, then, I take it?"

"A feminist? What a novel word. Is it French?"

"It is, indeed. Fourier penned it down first. Means someone who believed women and men can belong in the same opportunities, if I am not mistaken."

"But they do not."

"Come again?"

"You would not be able to imagine a man in the art of child-rearing and a woman sweating in a factory, now could you? Well, unless there is something gone terribly wrong in their lives. A loss of their spouses, perhaps, leading to him to raise or her to provide."

"And this is your segue into saying something has gone terribly wrong with the deal?"

He smirks. Beautiful. "Precisely. Your father and my father had been in business decades ago, and had a fixed deal. Which was expertly designed to benefit both sides back then, but times have changed, wouldn't you agree?"

"The deal is outdated?"

"Very much so. Aged like... milk, perhaps, though I suspect our fathers hoped for wine.", he replies, licking his lips before he leans back to rest his arm on the back of the exquisitely crafted chair you have allowed him to seat himself in.

"I can give you this...", you say, punctuated with a tap of your finger on the topmost layer of the collection of photos (expensive to procure, he notes. You must have fit into your inheritance of the business perfectly) "And throw in its newer model, as well, and lower it to the same price as the original, but that's all I can do."

"But it appears the original has increased in price.", he observes, one knee over the other.

"I assure you, Herr Harding, no price increase is without reason. Tough times, wouldn't you agree?"

His tongue rolls around to the back of his molars, before he shakes his head. "What else can you offer me?"

You lean forward. "This, this, and perhaps an anchor or two."

"For?"

"Twenty-five."

He snorts. "And if I walk out right now?"

"I will close the door behind you. I do not wish to let in a draft."

Audacious.

"You need to help me out here, I'm afraid.", he smiles, courteous and professional. It doesn't matter how breathtaking you were, this was a business meeting.

"Trust me, Herr Harding, this is me helping you out."

"There has to be something you can do. I cannot, in good conscience, you see, unjustly increase my procurement costs while our profits stay stagnant."

You point. "Ah. Stagnant, but never bad."

"No one would say no to more money, would they, madam?"

You laugh at that, though hushed and polite. "Alright. Three of the new models, then. Three anchors. No originals."

"The new models at the price of the originals?"

"Yes."

He stands, his hand out. "You have a deal, madam."

"Thank you, sir."

Your handshake's firm, he notes. You've either been rigorously trained, or you're made for this.

"I do, however, have a condition, Herr Harding, one that I know my father set, but not rigidly enough, not even nearly, and all our customers skirt around it."

He nods, his brows furrowing for a moment, before he sighs. "The weaponry."

"The weaponry.", you affirm. "Herr Harding, we provide solely for cruise ships and merchant ships, not military ships, not ones which create havoc in the oceans."

"You refer to the HMS Medusa.", he mutters, attempting to fix his hat on just perfect so that you are not privy to the bulging vein on his forehead. He recalled the horror stories his father told him about sea-wars, and conversely, the horror stories he'd been told of his business partner who refused to take part in naval ship-building.

"It is said to be huge, stacked with carronades, and it is already the talk of the town, despite having just been ordered this year.", you explain, your hand gesturing to the door of the study so that you may walk him out.

The clicking of heels overlap, just as your voices do.

"But madam, military ships are the new—"

"I am aware, but it was my late father's wish—"

"I understand that, however, you must think of how it looks for me to refuse my customers - the Navy, essentially - simply because you do not wish your accessories part of a military effort.", he reasons, his fingers skirting around the rim of his hat.

"These are my conditions, Herr Harding. I will have my people draw out the deal, and if you are not interested, simply do not sign. I bid you a good evening."

His first time dealing with a woman was proving to be the last time he'd ever want to.

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Friedrich had grown up watching his Papa at the factory, his little feet straining to keep up with Herr Harding's purposeful strides as he moved with his hands behind his back, his workers earning warnings, instructions, and approval alike from their boss.

Now, he is the Herr Harding, and he, too, strode with his hands pinned behind him, moustache twitching every time that he sees something he approves of. "Good job, Johann.", he mutters offhandedly, before his eyes fixate on something approaching him.

The annoying "businesswoman" who could not even lower her price for one of her oldest, most trustworthy business partners. You.

Yet, he remains civil, cordial, even, as he walks to you. Although, it's hard to remain himself when the sunset on the horizon strategically behind you blazes the edge of your hair just so. It's as though your hair's dripping Sun.

"You might have written, I could have sent a rider to bring you on horseback."

"Ah, that's no trouble. I quite like walking by the port. The sea breeze calms me."

"So, this is a random visit, then?"

Your brows furrow. "No, it is mentioned in the drawn-up agreement that you signed. We come and ensure our materials are not being used on a war ship, or anything to do with the military."

He fights a scoff and suppresses an eye roll. "Right. I must've missed that. It is the first time this has ever happened. Do you mean to say, all these decades, you have had spies?"

You chuckle at that, shaking your head. "No, no, this is a new condition that we added. We— Herr Harding."

You've noticed, it seems.

"Those are cannons."

"That will be covered. They will be tucked in safely to the—"

"Herr Harding, it was my father's wish not to inadvertently induce violence, because his father, my grandfather, said to him—"

"Military ships are the new necessity.", he grits out, patient and firm.

"My father believed—"

"Your father believed that he could bring popularity to such an imbecilic concept as "cruise ships", madam! They have never, and will never exist ; there is no one with such an interest in the sea besides pirates and dolphins, and your father, god rest him!"

Your scoff (and what would have been a very biting retort, he's sure) is cut off when the foghorn sounds. It seems to give you enough of a jolt not to say something you do not mean, although Friedrich knows that what he's just said had crossed a line.

"You are a liar, then, Herr Harding."

His arms open, almost like a hug, although you know it is not. "I am a businessman, madam."

"A liar. We should not like to do business with you again."

"You cannot afford to lose us as customers!", he calls to your retreating figure. "You know this!"

"My father used to tell your father everything, but those times have changed! You and I are not best mates, Herr Harding! I have gained a lot more customers than you know of!"

That gives him pause.

Truth of the matter was that he could not afford to lose your business.

He sighs. God. Doing business with a woman? Hell. No wonder "feminism" was such a novel phrase. Hopefully it stays in France.

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His hat presses against his chest as your maid opens the door.

"Is the Madam in?"

He's not sure what they call you, but he's sure they won't take it kindly if he used their Lady's first name so casually.

"Sir, it has nearly gone midnight."

"It is alright, Frieda.", a voice is heard, and his brows bunch together, paired with a squint of his eyes, and he can almost make you out in the bluey dark of the night, your beauty highlighted by the vague orange tint of the maid's candlelight. What a challenge you were proving to be. "Let him in."

His gaze is fixed on the floor when you excuse yourself to tighten your robe's knot, and then, he dutifully follows you into your study, which is surprisingly already sparkling with gentle glows of burning candles throughout, a gold sheet over the dull browns he'd been privy to not a month before.

"This is wildly improper, Herr Harding."

"Yes, yes. I am aware. I simply wished to convey my apology. I... spoke out of line, and I hurt you. I, of all people, know how tender the name of a father is in a child's head, how precious, and it was a line I did not wish to cross."

"Is that it?"

He huffs. He could leave while he's in the safe zone, having apologised for both the rudeness and the late-night visit. But when has Friedrich ever been able to resist a tiny peek past someone's walls, especially someone as exquisite as you, in your nightrobe, repeatedly running your hands through your hair to ensure the results of sleep (or tossing and turning) left it?

"No. If you have time, I'd like to go over the next order."

You raise a brow for a moment, before you scoff. "Unbelievable."

He, for one, did not expect this. "Come again?"

"Midnight, on a Sunday, and you expect—"

"I'm sorry, I'm confused, how does the day matter?"

"No one reads the contracts!", you whine, shouldering past him and causing him to lurch forward to hold onto the table for balance. You return rather huffily, dropping a tiny stack of papers identical to the one delivered to his house nearly a month ago for him to sign, onto the table with a flutter. "We've adopted Industrial Britain's idea of a "week-end", though they have only Saturday afternoons off. We have a five day workweek. It's novel, but I've found it highly increases my employees' spirits, and they work better."

His finger slides across the page as he reads, his lips mouthing the words before his striking blue eyes move up to yours, brimming with incredulity. "You're telling me that two days of the week, neither you, nor your employees work? And you've somehow managed to gain customers in this... this... chaotic new system of yours?", he splutters, his hands running through his hair.

"It intrigues people that my company's services are not available every day of the week, it makes it seem scarce and exclusive and—"

"Mad! I'm in business with a madwoman, a child, as well, as I've found out from due research on my part."

"I am twenty, I am no child!", you retort, stacking up the papers with aggressive taps onto the table, before you move past him to place them back.

"Two decades you've lived on this planet, then, and more than half that time, you were a child, a non-conscious entity that merely did as told!", he spits, his arms folded so as to not clench and reveal just how vexed he was.

"And, what, you've got a couple decades on me, have you?", you scoff, mirroring his stance. "You're twenty-five, Friedrich, you are considered young in this world, as well!"

The use of his first name is what sets him off. How dense of him to expect the same courtesy of professionalism from a twenty-year-old, a girl at that, that he so kindly provided? It's almost like your very presence disturbs the air around him, tugs at the very ends of his self-restraint, offends his sense of propriety.

His hand is on you in an instant, the soft curve of the side of his palm aligning with your jawline, his index and thumb digging into your cheeks on either side, so hard he could feel your pulse. "Yes. That's half a decade wiser, little girl.", he hisses, ignoring the rage in your eyes in favour of glancing down at your lips.

It's almost as if you're aware of every silly, sinful, wrong thought that's just permeated through his brain that instant, because you slap him away, the impact echoing through the room.

He knows what's coming. It's what any self-respecting woman would do. But before you shriek 'get out', he's going to attempt to salvage this wreckage of a business relationship.

"If you are so against ships on the offensive side, enlighten me with your plans for how ships — even merchant ones — may be able to defend themselves from being seized by pirates or enemies of the Crown.", he challenges, breathily, because he's just come this close to heaven, and hadn't even made his presence known at the gates.

Your demeanour shifts, a split second frown on your brows. "Come again?"

"You have any ideas for a ship that runs solely on defence? Because I'll tell you something, if you manage, that, you'll be a pioneer."

You suck on your teeth, eyes dancing around the room. "Do I have your word to maintain secrecy?"

"Of course."

"Herr Harding.", you warn.

"Yes, you have my word."

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"Welcome, Herr Harding, to the future."

It's good there's a lack of light in this room, because it'd have been over for his dignity had you seen his jaw slacken.

"Now, believe it or not, growing up, I was quite the patriot. Quite the skeptic, too, although those often go hand-in-hand.", you begin, gesturing for him to duck as he nearly collides with a hanging model of a ship.

"And I, too, asked my grandfather and father how they hoped to engage solely in non-violence. I thought, should our enemy attack, we must be properly armed to strike back."

He follows you through the expanse of what most houseowners would use as a wine cellar, traipsing past tiny models of ships with labels he can't read, because you refuse to linger long enough with the lamp.

"Then, I realised, a good offence is worth nothing if your ship has already acquired a heavy amount of damage."

"So... you have come up with a preventative measure? Some form of device that can detect offensive intention?"

The glint in your eyes travels to your mouth as you grin. "Not quite, Herr Harding."

He loves this, he decides. There's something about the excited, almost manic way you move around, floaty, dreamlike, angelic, as you speak about what he assumes is the only thing that brings you joy and solace alike, since your father's passing.

"What if you could detect the approach of another ship, as well as its speed and direction?"

Friedrich tilts his head. "Surely you don't mean to suggest—"

"This contraption, Herr Harding, can do two calculations at once. First, the speed of the waves in general will move this knob any which way.", you demonstrate, tapping your nails on the glass. "However, this knob is for any irregularity, any... ripples, I would say, that disturb this regular pattern. Ripples big enough not to be a whale or dolphin, that is."

Remarkable. He must remember not to gasp. "Seems there are plenty variables."

You seem genuinely pleased by that. "A man of science. Good. Yes, this is a prototype. I'm working on it. However, this...", you declare, moving around the unnaturally long table to another model. "A propeller that minimises cavitation—"

"Propellers? For big ships?"

"Why not? David Bushnell did it in 1776. Why can we not?", you ask, a glimmer of mischief in your tone. "Now, these minimise cavitation, which will minimise noise. And less noise means..."

"They won't see us coming."

"That's on the offense-side, Herr Harding. I mean to say that we can creep past them, most likely. I also have a method of creating safe fog that envelops around the ship but not the crew."

He's in absolute awe.

He settles in the study armchair upstairs with a huff after you two climb the arduous stairs, without invitation, though he has a nagging feeling that the two of you had gone far past that.

"You do not mean to tell me you come up with these alone?", he muses, the question a scream in the tranquil of your study at one in the morning.

"You do not mean to tell me you run your business alone?", you retort.

"You are fascinating.", he murmurs, and you pretend you didn't hear it.

"Am I allowed to include these in my ships? Or will it take a while to perfect?"

"It will take a while."

He nods. "Fair enough. I feel honoured to have seen these."

You seem quite pleased at that, a form of childlike validation, it seems.

He points at you with a single ringed finger, with playfully narrowed eyes to boot. "You tell me the moment it's ready, alright? The propeller and the... the fog... contraption. Yes?"

You nod, and he stands, his fingers drumming at his waist. "Anything else?"

You shake your head. "I will give you the regular order by...", you mumble, flicking through pages and pages of a rough yet new book, presumably a ledger. "The fourth?"

The corners of his lips curl down in acknowledgement. "Alright."

He reaches over to the table behind you, nearly desperate for a taste of heaven once more. But he is nothing if not a gentleman, so he clutches onto the hat he'd been pretending to reach for. "I shall take my leave. Thank you for bearing with me tonight."

Doing business with a woman was tiresome, but a business with an inventor? Fantastic, magic, even.

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Friedrich isn't sure when his nails had become this blunt. Surely he had a lot more left to chew? He flexes his hands before him. No, he has not got anything left but skin to chew. It's tempting, but he wouldn't want blood to stain his legal documents as he signs them.

Perhaps one day, there will be an invention where a message once sent can receive a reply immediately, without the sender having to anxiously await it. Hell, perhaps you'll invent it.

For now, however, he has to wait the stipulated three days. You live too far, he thinks. Unnecessary.

Today, ideally, is when the return letter should have arrived.

Nine words is all he'd written.

Nine words and that had taken, possibly seventy-two hours to reach you, and another seventy-two for a letter back to reach him.

He wishes it would reach, but he sits, wringing his hands together, a bit too close to his candle.

He contemplates attempting the trick many a friend of his has shown him, swiping a finger through the flame, but recalls that this is possibly the hand he will have to use to place a ring on your finger.

If you accept.

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The fog of the early morning, and the fog from trying out your fog-contraption amalgamate into what can only be known as the eeriest blanket Friedrich has ever found himself cloaked in.

But he finds himself cloaked in anticipation a moment later, because something nearly angelic, a silhouette of sorts that seems equal parts ominous and ethereal. He knows it's you.

As you get closer, however, his mind begins to play tricks on him. You're either holding the letter he sent you, or some sort of cleaver meant to mutilate him, and in this fog, he's sure he'd be left unprotected. He's rooted to the spot.

"'I have a proposal. A real one this time.'? What is that supposed to mean?"

It is the former. The letter.

He cocks his head, a fond smile playing on his lips. The daftest, most dexterous girl he's ever loved. "You do not understand? I thought I was the epitome of clarity."

"No, by all means, be vaguer.", you hiss, waving the letter around in front of his face. "Perhaps I'll understand in about a century."

Shaking his head, Friedrich moves closer. "Did you see what came with it?"

"Yes.", you mutter, handing him the necklace. He folds your fingers around it, gently pushing it back to you.

"The ring in it, acting like a pendant? It is for you. Clear now?"

You remind him of a statue, the way you're looking at him, the only indication that you are alive being the way your eyes dart between his.

"Clear now?", he repeats, fingers reaching for your earring. "Lovely is the woman that wears diamonds."

No one has ever said that in his life. He's sure you're smart enough to figure that out, but you say nothing.

"These are pearls.", you scoff, grateful for one bit of banter, one subject change, at the very least.

He nods, biting his lip. "True. But this is not.", he murmurs, tapping on the ring resting on your palm, along with the chain around it.

"I—"

"I do not wish to be unprofessional, and I definitely do not wish to embarrass you, in any way, shape or form, because I have given you more than a tiny peek— no, an endless view behind my walls, and as a businessman... well, you know more than most how that is a suicide in the business world. I— I am afraid I am rambling, and taking up far too much of your time."

Shaking your head offhandedly, you rub the delicate chain between your fingers, your mind clearly elsewhere.

"You do not have to give me an answer that you do not want to give. You do not, in fact, have to give me an answer at all. But you did come onto this pier, to my port, because you wanted... at the very least, to know more."

You don't respond, so he pushes. "Am I right in assuming that?"

"I don't know why I came."

"I don't know why I wrote. We are in the same b— well, ship."

That earns a pity-laugh out of you.

Sighing, Friedrich is forced to shake his head for the thousandth time in your presence, and he's prepared to do it for the rest of his life, if you'll have him. "Here."

"What?"

"May I?", he asks, his palms hovering over your shoulder until you nod with permission. He places them on your shoulders, gently steering you to face the ship. "That's your fog-contraption."

He sees you smiling.

"The propellers are, of course, not visible, but I can show you the plans later."

You're still smiling.

"Look at the ship. Our ship. Your ship."

You do, and he swears he just saw a spark fly in your eyes. God.

"And now, look at me. The only question you need to answer is whether you can look at both the ship and me the same way."

Your lips part, and he's not sure if you're simply amused that he's compared himself to a ship, to your life's work, or if you're about to say something.

It seems to be neither.

You just keep looking at him, and it's throwing him off, frankly.

"What is it?" Perhaps you cannot see him in this fog.

"I'm not—"

Not in love with you.

Not interested.

Not an idiot.

Not ever going to reciprocate.

"Not what?"

"Not sure that's fixed right.", you say, and he looks over his shoulder. The fucking contraption. Teach him to love an inventor. "It's getting caught in the— hold on."

You make for the ship, but he grabs your arm, close enough that it seems like you're in the glistening study again, illuminated solely by candlelight and love. However, his fingers do not jab into your cheeks this time, no, this time, they flow against your features, jaw clenching, throat bobbing as the words he wishes to say are somehow adhered right there.

"I will not hold on.", he says, sternly. "Either kiss me, or give me an explanation, but I will not be made to wait."

He's sure he's inches away from throwing himself into the murky waters beside him.

"My affections may be seen as offensive, or seen as repulsive, or even, unfortunately, disrespectful, but I find comfort in the fact that they are at least seen.", he murmurs, his forehead against yours, tiny little kisses blooming on each of your knuckles.

He's really, desperately hoping your little fog machine works, because the last thing he needs are his employees seeing a younger woman reject him, especially with the bluntness you seem to possess and wield.

"Are they seen? Tell me they are seen. They are seen, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"Are they reciprocated?"

"I'm not sure."

A tilt of his lips. "But there is a chance."

Nodding, you shrug. "Yes."

"You're a scientific mind. Tell me the chances. Not in percentages, I can never comprehend them."

A small laugh escapes you. He wants it to ring through his ears until he's driven further into insanity. "A good one."

"Air-travel-being-invented-by-tomorrow-good, or I-can-kiss-you-now-good?"

It's cheeky, he knows, and he knows you're amused, if your scoff is any indication. "Well, you know, I think it may take a few decades, but air travel may be—"

"Teach me percentages so I can tell you which feature of yours occupies which percentage of my heart.", he murmurs, shaking his head with a breathless "Shh-shh-shh." at your imminent snarky retort.

Friedrich will let you talk later. For now, as his lips move with yours and the fog acts like the veil you will wear when he weds you, he'll do the talking.

[sundrop-writes]

Help me decide between these WIPs - Sept/Oct 2024

If you want more info about ideas, look below the poll, but I know most people judge very quickly for polls without reading the ideas first. It's just nature lmao (also, this is basically just a contest of smut vs fluff, so I am interested to see if people who claim they 'need more fluff' actually show up for this one or if just smut wins again like it usually does)

A Halloween Date In Hogsmeade - this is more of an idea then a full blown WIP (an idea I just got). This would be pure fluff. If this one won, then I would do another poll to decide who the date would be with. I want to do something Halloween themed this year - I do have something else secret up my sleeve, but since I am writing for Harry Potter right now, this would be fun. This would probably be for GN Reader, and just based on the old Quizilla style of fics - old, fluffy fics where Reader is the center of attention and gets a lot of romance from whatever love interest is chosen. Because this one would take another poll, I would work on whatever is the runner up of this poll in the meantime. 

Untitled Lust Potion Fic (Requested) - Ron Weasley x Fem!Ravenclaw!Reader. Friends to Friends with Benefits. Sex Pollen. Smut/PWP. This one is very basic, what it says on the tin - you are making a ‘lust’ potion as a bonus extra credit project for Slughorn’s class, and Ron accidentally messes it up, leading to him being the main person affected by it. His uncontrollable lust caused by the potion is then directed towards you. Glorious smut ensues. This one is about halfway finished in my drafts. 

Untitled Fluff Fic (Requested) - Ron Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader. Pining Acquaintances to Lovers. Fluff. You are in Slytherin, but you have a crush on Gryffindor’s ‘King’ - Ron Weasley. This makes things complicated when your housemates constantly tease you for it. One day, after a rival Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, things come to a head, and you just might end up on the winning side of things, even if your house lost the match. 

Water Fountain aka the ‘Love Triangle’ Fic (Requested) - Harry Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader (Background Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader). Love Triangle, Anger, Pining. Emotional Angst, Smut (Hate Sex). Despite being in Slytherin, you have always had a close relationship with the Golden Trio, and you’ve always harbored a secret crush on the famous Harry Potter. However, he has made it very clear that despite being your best friend, he has no romantic interest in you. So, you find yourself free to pursue other romantic flames - like Draco Malfoy. This particular choice of yours drives Harry insane, and he can’t keep this anger to himself when you bring Draco as your date to the SlugClub Christmas party.

[scarletcomalies]

treacherous

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word count: 6,994

A/N: Hey! I received an anonymous request, but I accidentally deleted the draft where I directly responded it. The request said pretty much what says in the synopsis. Thanks to whoever sent it, made me happy <3! I hope you like it.

A/N II: Also, it’s 3:27 AM and I wrote this half asleep whilst listening Red TV three times in a row.

Warnings: Unspecified legal age gap (Natasha is older), mention of guns, shooting, manipulation (from a father), intrafamiliar abuse, trust issues.

Natasha Romanoff struggled with trust issues due to past relationships. Her fear of being hurt overshadowed any chance to open herself up to the possibility of a relationship. That was, of course, until she met you.

Hydra was a group of evil masterminds with a mission to take over the world, employing advanced technology and weapons to achieve said objective.

It hurt you too much to even think about the fact that you were part of it all, for ever since you were incredibly young, you were the victim of experiments and ruthless training to basically turn you into another of their deadly weapons.

You were just a little one, desperate to get your adoptive father's approval, and deep down, you still were, despite the fact that you were a young adult now. However, no matter how hard you tried, he always seemed disappointed in you, and you were willing to do anything to make him proud.

That's what you thought, of course, until you couldn't take it anymore. So much spilled blood, uncountable innocent lives lost, all in the name of greed and evil. You switched sides, and betrayed the organization you once called home.

You didn't know how many hours you spent hiding in one of the lockers from the Hydra facility that was attacked by the Avengers, while you listened to the tragedy happen outside this cold little compartment. You were supposed to be the main counter-attacker, and you were expected to kill at least one of them in order for the others to back off for a few months.

However, it was too much. As you fought them, the dilemma you found yourself in was too much to bear; you wanted to make your adoptive father proud, but you also wanted them to win because you repudiated every aspect that made up the twisted organization which you were unfortunately a part of.

So, as you walked down the corridors to attack one of them, you simply stopped dead in your tracks and went to hide instead. Until you heard nothing, only a silence that was somehow deafening, while intrigue kept eating you out - had good won over evil again?

When you kicked the door of the locker so you could get out, the first sight you encountered was the Black Widow, who got startled when she saw you and immediately pointed a gun at you. Your first instinct was to raise your arms.

Your face was streaked with tears, for you had sobbed desperately, fearing what your father would do when he found out you had failed this mission, but you were also drowning in shame for your actions.

And you didn't need to say anything, Natasha knew everything as soon as she saw you in that disconsolate and defeated state. You didn't want to do any of this, you desperately wanted to be good.

The Avengers welcomed you with open arms, and as you stood beside them, fighting for what was right, you finally felt you were part of a family, where your efforts were seen and appreciated, something you never felt with Hydra.

"I know these brutal injuries are a little bit of a scratch for you, but..."

"But it worries you when I go on missions that involve more than big men fighting me," Natasha finished the sentence before you could, a huge grin plastered from ear to ear.

You just chuckled, as you carefully worked to heal those terrible wounds on her face, product of a more complex mission than usual.

"Come on! Who knows if that creature that hurt you might give you some disease from the outer-space microbes it had in its claws. It could get infected and you could start a new pandemic, you know?" You half-joked.ñ

Natasha let out a loud laugh, that could be perhaps be heard all over facility.

"Well, look on the bright side, maybe I'll get to be the one to name it," she chuckled, and she flinched subsequently, her wounds hurt due to her smiling-facial expression.

"Silly!" You playfully nudged her shoulder with your fist, as you kept smiling enormously. "Jokes aside, please promise me you'll keep those wounds clean. You'll apply this," you showed her a small container of antiseptic soap, "And after that, you must apply this as well," you showed her a spray of alcohol.

She never told you this at first, but she appreciated enormously that you cared for her in this way, and that, on top of that, you were always willing to look after her as if she wasn't used to risking her life in all sorts of places.

The older woman nodded and laughed a little. "Of course, I'll make sure to clean the wounds and apply those, it's not too bad really. Don't worry yourself, okay?" She smiled kindly and warmly at you.

"Perfect... I'll let you off, then," you replied, with a grin. "Go get some rest, and I'll see you again when..." you paused. "I'll see you again," you affirmed this time.

You didn't know when you would see her again.

You had a very simple mission, so simple that you didn't need to go out and take risks as you normally did. You just needed to find information, leak some documents, hack into certain bases, and you could do it all from the comfort of the Avengers Tower. You were almost done when Natasha returned from her mission with the rest of the Avengers, and you insisted in helping her with all those wounds she had in her face, which again, were not something new for any of you, but still... you hated to see her even in the slightest discomfort. And just like on the other times, she refused to receive your help, but eventually gave in.

Outside of coincidences like these and the missions you had together, you didn't convive with her. And you missed her more than you could admit.

It was a strange feeling. You both got along well... excellent, to tell the truth, and you liked each other's company. However, that was no different than your relationship with the other Avengers, even so, Natasha Romanoff was the only one whose presence you longed more than usual whenever you were apart.

"Sure, I'll see you again," she nodded, as she rose from the seat she was in, and patted your shoulder affectionately.

This was always the way goodbyes were, and you couldn't lie, it hurt a little bit to realize that you didn't have a relationship with her outside of work. That was to be expected, many years of knowing her teammates didn't compare to a couple of months of knowing you, but you had to start somewhere, right?

That day, Natasha did as you told her and rested in her room of the Tower, and you, on the other hand, returned to the solitude of your apartment, watched a few episodes of your favorite series and waited to be summoned again on another occasion.

Said occasion was about a week later, and amidst the catastrophe that ensued, the taste of victory for having done well never ceased to leave you with a feeling of accomplishment.

It was even better than the others, since it was a mission against the organization you had unwillingly dedicated your life to serving. And this time, you were on the right side.

Your eyes watered a little. And Natasha didn't say it at first either, but she was the first to notice it because she used to watch you more than she would like to admit.

"Oh, sweetheart, what's wrong?" She asked you, turning to you with a concerned expression on her face. "Don't tell me you regretted joining us, because I'm going to hit you," she joked, and there you realized that was a habit of hers, for the purpose of lightening the mood.

And she succeeded, because you laughed, "Quite the opposite. I'm so happy to find myself on this side and to be able to make up even a little bit for all the bad I did," you confessed.

She let out a little 'Awww' and proceeded to hug you.

It felt like... like home. And maybe your home wasn't the kindest to you, so it was more like you found a new place where you could feel warm and comfortable.

It felt like a shelter from the world's harshness, and that you were at last somewhere you belonged. The embrace was gentle and firm at the same time, somehow it was a combination that could go well altogether, and it was as if every little thing that had ever hurt you was washed away by the love in that hug.

She stayed that way for as long as you needed. And later, at the Avengers Tower, everyone asked you if you were all right, and when they made sure you were calmer, they left to their respective rooms, but not before giving you words of affirmation telling you how valuable you were and what a priceless job you had done on the mission.

And after that little moment of closeness you had with Natasha, two days passed when you saw her again.

You were not specifically summoned for a mission, rather, Tony Stark needed your help to develop a new artificial intelligence prototype that would assist Peter Parker. The only difference was that Tony wanted her to ask him about his feelings and get concerned for his well-being, almost like a therapist or a mother would.

There had been maybe four or five opportunities where you had the pleasure of demonstrating your mental abilities, which were numerous.

Of course at Hydra they weren't going to raise you to be physically astute, they needed to train you mentally as well, and sure as hell they did. Because, maybe it would take Tony Stark more than four or five tasks to trust someone, but you completed them so efficiently, that very little was enough for him to be impressed and take you into consideration for this field as well.

About seven hours had passed, where you were discussing and employing the famous "trial and error", when Natasha came to interrupt. Tony wasn't too happy about it, but you were delighted.

"It turned out like shit," she concluded. She had a little dirt on her suit and her face was scarred with small injuries, but these weren't man-made, they were more like falls. "The target had already left the base by the time we got there, and took everything. All we did was kill the guards for nothing, no objective."

Tony took a deep breath, leaning back in his seat. For him, if there was anything worse than interruptions, it was interruptions for bad news.

"That's the third time in a row they've had us looking like idiots playing Tag," he snorted. "We'll figure out what to do. We did what we could."

Natasha was not at all pleased with his answer, as she wanted an immediate solution, and for her, the worst thing that could happen was to fail in something as simple as attacking a Hydra base.

"That's it?" She exclaimed, and at Tony's lack of response, she let out a groan and with giant strides, she left the room.

You ran after her, caring very little if she yelled at you to leave her alone. You wanted to at least make an attempt to be there for her.

"Nat!" You called out to her. "Nat, come on!"

She stopped, and turned to look at you, "What do you want?"

Now thar you were close to her, you noticed how fresh the small wounds on her face looked, and you would soon set out to help her with that, but the support she needed the most was the emotional kind.

"There's this place near Willow Lake," you laughed at her mild surprise. "I know, it's a bit far from here, but we can grab a bite to eat, take a walk down to the lake afterwards... you don't have to talk if you don't want to, I just want to offer you this little method of escape that has helped me in my darkest days."

There was no power on earth that would make her turn down such an offer, not only because this would be the first time she would be spending time with you outside of missions and work, but because it really sounded like a plan that would help her tremendously in all that stress she was going through.

After Natasha took a shower and changed, she went to find you in the room where you were working with Tony, who gave you a grateful smile before you left.

The drive there was long, and neither of you said much more than small talk, but it was extremely comfortable at the same time, with Taylor Swift's music playing on the car's speakers.

With this alone, she seemed more relaxed as she remained in the passenger seat. It was clear that the unsuccessful mission was eating her mind, but by having a moment to think about it, she gradually lightened up. She was very grateful that you gave her space and didn't try to distract her.

As soon as you guys got out of the car, the first thing you could feel was how pure the air was in that area, and how uncrowded it was compared to the noisy city. With that alone, Natasha understood why you brought her there, it was a peaceful and perfect place to think.

"Do you like it?" You asked, and if the redhead hadn't been too invested taking in her surroundings, she would have noticed that you were in turn, completely dumbfounded watching her..

"I love it," she nodded, with a huge smile, and proceeded to close her eyes and take a deep breath to enjoy the air.

When you entered the small cafe, you ordered a panini and a soda, and encouraged Natasha to order whatever she wanted, it would be your treat. Neither of you had eaten and it was already four in the afternoon, so you couldn't wait for the food to arrive.

You didn't ask her anything about it, and you didn't bring the subject up, you just waited patiently for her to speak first. And she did so about five minutes after she ordered.

"I feel better already," she said. "Maybe Tony's approach wasn't the best, but he's right, we'll find a way, in the meantime, we did what we could."

You smiled.

"We'll find a way to come out of this victoriously. Believe me when I tell you that they no longer have any threats and all they have left is to run. We'll find a way to corner them," you encouraged her, almost sensing firsthand how frustrated she might have felt earlier.

She nodded in agreement, "We have to come up with a plan," she replied. "I've already given a lot of thought to it, and I think right now, what I want to do is enjoy this moment with you, because, you do realize this is our first outing together?"

You did realize, and you couldn't begin to express how much you looked forward to this moment. While the conversations during missions or at the Tower were enough for you to grow fond of each other, there was always work involved.

"You're right. I wouldn't have wanted to wait this long, but I understand you're busy, and, I wasn't sure if you were in the mood to go out during your rest time."

She chuckled at the comment, "Oh, no! I like going out. And look, maybe I am busy, but you might just be worth dropping everything for... you know, once in a while!"

You reacted with a small and subtle giggle, feeling even more charmed and flattered by her.

"I must say, it's an honor to potentially be worth dropping everything for, even once in a while," you responded lightheartedly.

The food arrived just in time, and you both exchanged a look of acknowledgement at how good it looked.

"Well, bon appétit," she smiled, and didn't wait five seconds to start devouring her lunch.

You both ate in silence, very focused on enjoying the food as it was already too late after the regular lunch hour. You were starving.

When you finished your meal, you talked about banal topics to get to know each other better, such as favorite books, movies and series, hobbies, the music you enjoyed the most and whether you preferred summer or winter. It was a nice chat, where you both found a lot of common ground and were introduced to new possibilities, because let's say you left that restaurant with at least twenty songs to listen to, ten books to read and five movies and series to check out.

It was until you left the restaurant and walked to the lake that the conversation deepened. She asked you about your past, and although you didn't spill those details so easily, you ended up telling her even more than your closest friends knew. Natasha was just that kind of person.

And when Natasha shared her story with you, that was the most painful, deepest and perhaps most precious aspect that you shared — that intrinsic feeling that impelled you to abandon all evil sown in your hearts.

You were so immersed in conversation, that it seemed like in five minutes the sky went dark when in reality it had been about three hours straight.

From then on, whenever your free times coincided, you made the most of it. You made it a regular part of your lives, would always make plans for upcoming meet-ups and, naturally, your relationship slowly started to grow and deepen over time as a result.

You started to appreciate the little details that shaped Natasha, from her stunning smile to her sweet laugh, from her thoughtful glances to her kind words. It was like a flame had been lit inside of you, eventually growing into a roaring blaze that could not be tamed. You were slowly and deeply falling in love with her, there was no denying it anymore.

"Nat, I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do, but you leave me no choice," you said, as soon as you pulled a +4 card as a last resource. Your only cards remaining were two red ones and of course you would decide said color as the next.

Natasha let out a gasp of surprise, and shook her head.

"How could you?" She exclaimed, and with much indignation, took the four cards.

"I choose red," you stated, very indifferent to her reaction.

She checked the cards she had taken, and the red card she placed, was one that would prevent you from your turn, and then, she placed a red one with a number on it.

With a victorious smile, you shouted "UNO" as you placed the second to last card you had left. And to your bad luck, Natasha didn't have one of the same color, but she did have a blue one with the same number.

"Excuse me, you were saying?" She replied, in a mocking tone.

It was your turn to gasp in surprise.

"Natalia, you monster!" You exclaimed. "My devious scheme has been disrupted, and I have been bested. I expected this from everyone, but you?" You said in an over-dramatic tone, placing your hands on your chest, as if you had been stabbed.

You two were cross-legged playing UNO on Natasha's bed, having watched a couple of movies and ordered food. You had been playing for maybe an hour and a half now, and this last round was no different than the previous ones, since you were always looking for ways to trick and betray each other in this little game. Until, Natasha finally won.

"Ahhh! This was a tough one!" You commented, collecting the cards from the pile and sorting them. As you were doing this, you noticed something under Natasha's leg, sticking out slightly. "But of course, it was honest play, wasn't it? It would be a shame if you cheated."

She snorted, "Yes, honesty first and foremost, I agree," she acted innocent. You did your best to hold your laughter.

"Hey, since you're closer, would you mind getting up and handing me my phone?" You pointed to your phone, which was charging in her bedside table.

"You get up, lazy!" She teased, making you gasp in surprise.

"Well, I may be lazy, but I'm no cheater!" You exclaimed, pointing to the card under her leg.

"Oh, whaaaaat?! How did this even get here?!" She said, making her voice a little higher pitched and feigning surprise.

You couldn't help it and laughed loudly.

"Oh, come on, Nat!" You answered. "We're resuming this game, now!"

Luckily, you caught on to her trick before you rearranged the cards, and you hadn't yet touched hers and yours.

"Give me that card," you ordered her, and at that, she didn't let you have it and kept moving the card just out of your reach.

You suddenly realized you've leaned forward to try and grab at the card, and you accidentally ended up on top of her, with her lying on her back underneath you.

The world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you exchanging a few shy looks and smiles, acknowledging the position you were in, feeling a little nervous and uncertain about it.

The pounding of your heart was racing a million beats per second, its rhythm matching the rapid pace of your thoughts. Your cheeks flushed with warmth whilst you embraced the profound effect she had on you.

And after a while, you summoned all your courage and made the first move. You leaned in, closing the distance between you and Natasha. In that intimate moment, your lips gently met hers, softly and tenderly.

However, the thrill of the moment was replaced with confusion and disappointment when Natasha pulled away.

"I can't," her words hung in the air.

You reluctantly drew back, giving her the space she needed, and you searched her eyes, longing to find the reason behind her hesitance, but all you could see was a glimpse of regret and shame.

It was as if she carried a secret, a secret that prevented her from fully embracing the moment, despite the chemistry you thought there was between you both. Or maybe you got lost in translation, maybe she simply didn’t share your feelings.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, your voice breaking. "I didn't mean to overstep. I misunderstood."

"Please, just go," Natasha's expression remained resolute.

Her words felt like a cold-hearted stab in your chest, leaving you at a loss for what to say or do. Nevertheless, you decided to respect her boundaries, honoring her wish to be left alone.

With a heavy heart, you nodded, gathering your things. Subsequently, you whispered another "I’m sorry" as you started to walk away.

The taste of that stolen kiss lingered on your lips for a long time, as a reminder of the brief, tantalizing ephemeral glance of something that could have been.

In the meantime, you only hoped that someday, the circumstances would align, allowing both of you to talk it out and move on.

That happened when you were contacted for another mission. With the help of the advanced technology and scientific knowledge that the Tower counted with, everyone contributed to analyze the data collected.

Each member expressed their concerns, ideas and proposals for the next step to take. Natasha, in particular, treated you with incredible disdain and professionalism, leaving everyone around you surprised. It was as if she created a barrier between you both, as if she barely recognized your presence now. There was no trace of shame or shyness on her face, unlike you, who struggled to even hold eye contact with her.

Finally, the meeting concluded. As the team prepared to disperse, the opportunity to talk to Natasha presented itself. The others began to head out, leaving the two of you alone in the room. This was the moment you had been waiting for.

"Nat, can we talk?" You gently drew her attention as she evaluated the information presented in the screens.

She turned to look at you, and then nodded. It was a small gesture, but it gave you the reassurance you needed to proceed.

"I… just want to apologize," you began. "For what happened before, for misunderstanding and crossing a line that should’ve never been. I never meant to make you uncomfortable."

Her gaze softened, and she sighed, "It's not entirely your fault," she reassured you. "I should have been clearer. It's just… I have a lot of conflicts in my mind, it’s complicated."

You nodded, understanding that there was more to her story than you were told, "I want you to know that I treasure our connection, whatever it may be," you confessed, your sincerity present in every single world. "And if there's anything you're willing to share, I'm here to listen."

There was a brief pause as Natasha contemplated her response, but as the minutes passed, she felt more and more comfortable with sharing her past experiences with relationships, and how they caused her to struggle with trust issues.

"Nat, I’m going to be honest, I can't erase the mistakes of others, but I swear to you, I'm not here for just a fleeting encounter. And I’m willing to earn your trust, if you give me the opportunity."

"It's hard for me to believe that," she admitted. "But at the same time, there's something about you that makes me want to give you that opportunity, despite my reservations. It’s complicated, as I said."

In that precious moment, your feelings swirled together - joy, relief, and gratitude. You had been given a chance, an opportunity to show Natasha that your love for her could prevail over the scars of the past.

Ever since, every date you planned with her was a thoughtful gesture, meticulously adapted to her preferences as you were eager to give your best to create cherished memories. From intimate dinners at her favorite restaurants to adventurous outings exploring new places, your attention to the small details that made her happy did not go unnoticed, because she appreciated the genuine effort you put into making her feel seen and loved. She also appreciated that you never pressed her for more than she was ready to give.

You provided a safe space where she could open up at her own pace. Naturally, time went on, and Natasha began to let her guard down in your presence.

Until, one —ironically— rainy night, your phone buzzed discreetly. You glanced down and read the words from your adoptive father, that were capable of disturbing your peace within seconds…

"I hope our deal still stands, and that you didn't actually move to the Avengers' side."

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha could perfectly read the message, her expression shifting from serenity to one of concern and anger. In an instant, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Time slowed as Natasha's eyes found yours, and the depth of her pain and distrust pierced through every fiber of your being. The delicate thread of trust that had been formed between you threatened to break under the weight of betrayal.

"What is this, (Y/N)?" She asked as her voice trembled. "Have you been playing both sides all along?!"

Before you could even respond, Natasha's eyes glazed over and she proceeded to rise abruptly from her seat to leave the restaurant where you were having dinner. Little did you care and you placed a hundred dollar bill that would cover both of your consumption plus a generous tip.

Afterwards, you ran out of the place to follow her. The first thing you felt was an overwhelming cold and the rain soaking you.

"Nat, please believe me," you pleaded. "I never wanted any of this. My loyalty lies with you and the Avengers."

"Yes, yes. I've heard that story a thousand times, and I didn't like the ending," she replied.

"Nat...—"

"I don't want to hear you!" She shouted suddenly, startling you. "You expect me to believe your empty words? I thought you were different, but I see now that you're just like everyone… no, you’re worst, way worst."

The rain that drenched you seemed insignificant compared to the icy chill that her words settled within you, making the ache in your chest unbereable.

"No, Nat, please," you begged desperately, your voice being interrupted by occasional sobs. "Let’s get inside and talk, I’ll explain you everything. I love you."

She shuddered as if your words had hurt her even more. The pain in her eyes reflected the storm that ravaged her soul.

"Love? Is that what you call it?" Her voice exuded bitterness as she lashed out, determined to protect herself from further pain. "You have a funny way of showing it. Actions speak louder than empty declarations."

Her words crushed you completely, as the rain mixed with your tears.

As Natasha turned, her silhouette blurred by the rain, you eventually felt too weak to even be standing, and you kneeled in the pavement, feeling your entire body twist in pain and regret.

"Natasha, my love, please don't leave," you sobbed. "Nat… don’t leave,” you whispered this time.

But she was gone, swallowed up by the darkness and the pouring rain. And you were right where she left you drenched and devastated, unable to understand how everything could fall apart so quickly.

Your mission as an infiltrator within the Avengers was the following: to steal a valuable possession and to disrupt their missions, weakening their defenses and providing Hydra a strategic advantage.

You proposed to your adoptive father the tip of the iceberg of your original plan. You told him you would deceive everyone, in order to gain their trust and position yourself as Hydra's eyes within the mighty Avengers' Tower.

However, your true motives remained hidden. Little did he know that you yearned for a chance to redeem yourself from the shadows of your past. You genuinely wanted to make a connection with the Avengers, to join their ranks and fight for the greater good.

At first, you walked a tightrope, subtly sabotaging the Avengers' efforts against Hydra to maintain your adoptive father's trust, so he would not proceed against you or your teammates. But as time went on, you stopped even doing that, and instead, made excuses to prevent suspicion that you didn't align with Hydra's twisted ideals. And that message he sent you during your date with Natasha couldn't have been more inopportune.

Days turned into weeks, and the weight of loneliness suffocated any hint of hope that remained, because as expected, you heard nothing from Natasha, or any of the Avengers for that matter. All those friendships, laughs, trust… shattered into a thousand pieces by a message that didn't represent you at all.

You even began to consider packing your belongings and escape to another country to start from scratch. Your stupid choices held you captive, and the desire to break free consumed you.

In the midst of this overwhelming despair, you received a message from your adoptive father.

"Fine, if that’s how you want to play, then so be it. If you don't bring something valuable to us TODAY, she will suffer. We have her."

The message cut through your being like a searing blade, slashing through the delicate fabric of your soul. There was no hiding what you have done, and a life was held hostage, a life intertwined with your own.

As if the threat wasn't enough, he continued…

"Also, if you call the Avengers, we'll know, and she'll die painfully before they even get there. Steal something like I raised you to do. No tricks this time."

You felt the air rushing out from your lungs, as fear gripped your heart mercilessly. The mere thought of your beloved enduring torment struck you with agony, and there was no doubt that you would protect her at all costs.

In the midst of your despair, a plan began to take shape. You would infiltrate into the Avengers' Tower and steal the highly advanced AI system you and Tony initially designed for Peter Parker.

It seemed like the perfect key to Natasha’s safety, and to meet your adoptive father’s demands. Hydra's capabilities would be significantly amplified with it.

Your exile also translated into losing access to everything you used to come and go. In consequence, using your years of training, reflected through skills and expertise, you successfully manipulated the electronic locks and bypassed the intricate security measures.

Finally, you stood before the AI, and with a steady hand, you carefully detached the system, making sure not to leave a trace of your presence. The stolen AI system nestled securely in your possession, and therefore, Natasha would be safe and sound in no time.

You headed to the place you were ordered to, and it was conveniently apart from the city, being a former abandoned factory.

You knew that Natasha was extremely dangerous and strong, therefore you couldn't stop thinking of the position she must have been in so that they managed to get her with no problem.

Once there, you took the suitcase containing AI Karen's chip and made your way towards the meeting point. You noticed that there were about ten guards guarding the area, and one of them checked if you didn't have a weapon.

As soon as the door slightly opened, you kicked it hard and entered the place.

You saw Natasha immobilized with smart handcuffs restraining on her wrists and ankles, but when you ran towards her, you were stopped by the man you most repudiated on the face of this earth.

"Hey, easy," he said mockingly. "Let's talk business."

Your eyes glazed over, as you felt your heart ache at the sight in front of you. There was nothing you wanted more than to hug her and reassure her that you would do everything in your power to save her. But in order to accomplish that, you had to obey what was being asked of you.

"This is what I got," you began after letting out a long sigh. "It is similar to the artificial intelligence that Tony Stark has in his suit, and I participated in its development," you continued. "It has various databases and security protocols that would facilitate the acquisition of classified information, allowing Hydra to infiltrate sensitive networks and manipulate events to suit its agenda. It can also analyze patterns, anticipate trends, and adjust strategies accordingly. It would make an incredible asset for global domination."

After giving him a quick demonstration, your adoptive father smiled wickedly and patted your shoulder.

"Oh, I'm so proud of you," he exclaimed, and perhaps your self of many years ago would have rejoiced at those words, but now that you knew the price you had to pay to hear those words, you realize that they are not worth all the suffering, and never were.

"Let Natasha Romanoff go, father," you commanded with your jaw clenched.

His laughter echoed through the dimly lit factory. His eyes bore into yours, devoid of any warmth or compassion, as he reveled in his victory.

"Let her go," he scoffed, his voice filled with disdain. "Why would I release her when I finally have you exactly where I want you?"

A surge of anger coursed through you, fueling a fire that burned fiercely within your chest.

"No," you declared firmly. "You should know by now that Natasha means more to me than any twisted ideology you spew."

Your adoptive father's eyes burned with fury. In that moment, you realized that your defiance had destroyed his illusion of control.

"After everything I have done for you? Don't you see? This is your purpose, your destiny!" He countered.

"That’s your purpose for me, as your puppet," you corrected. "My purpose is not to spread chaos and destruction. It's to protect the people I love and make amends for the wrongs I've done. And guess what? That’s what I’m doing."

"Ah, so the great (Y/N) has grown soft and weak in the arms of Natasha. I knew allowing emotions into your heart would be your downfall," he sneered, with an air of disappointment. "You were meant to be a weapon in our hands, an asset for the future of this organization," he added.

"… and I would rather be 'soft' in the eyes of Hydra than hardened and devoid of humanity like you," you stated. "I may have been created by Hydra, but I am not defined by them. I choose my own path, and it's one that leads away from your darkness."

He took a deep breath, characteristic of when he already lost his patience. You knew it so well, and it never failed to frighten you.

He stepped closer, his menacing presence closing in around you, "I raised you to be better, so you have one last chance," he hissed, handing you a gun. "You end Natasha Romanoff's life, or I will do it myself. And trust me, my methods are far more agonizing than a quick death."

You trembled, feeling your heart suffocating, your mind finding its way of reminding you of the laughter you shared, the tender moments, the unbreakable bond between you and Natasha. But at the same time, you knew what your adoptive father was capable of, and it filled you with dread.

There were no other options, no escape from the cruel fate that awaited her if you refused. With tears welling in your eyes, you whispered your surrender. "Fine. I'll do it."

When Natasha heard the words escape your trembling lips, her eyes widened in disbelief, and her features contorted in a mixture of shock and heartbreak.

The knot in your stomach tightened, constricting your breath and making it difficult to think clearly. Your palms grew clammy, sweat trickling down your forehead as your heart pounded in your chest.

You cautiously approached Natasha. Every step felt like an eternity, the deafening thud echoing in your ears. When you were close enough, you saw the beads of sweat glistening on her forehead, her muscles straining against the unyielding bonds that sought to confine her. It was a testament to her resilience, her unyielding spirit that refused to be broken.

In the end, this was you, a deadly weapon raised to make these kinds of actions. What was one more kill? Your entire life had been shaped by the manipulations and training of your adoptive father, molding you into a merciless instrument of his will and the will of the company he worked for.

You raised the gun, as the metal felt cold and unforgiving in your sweaty hands. And then, as if guided by an invisible force, your finger began to tighten around the trigger.

You made the last choice, the choice that would determine the path of your future and, ultimately, save both yourself and Natasha. There was no other way out.

With a determination that burned bright within you, you aimed at your objective. So, when your finger curled around the trigger, a deafening shotgun erupted in the room, shattering the suffocating silence.

In that instant, your adoptive father's body crumpled to the ground, unconscious and defeated. His presence, once so menacing and dominant, now lay broken, a mere shadow of the authority he once commanded.

Natasha's body jerked in a sudden startle when she heard the shotgun, and her eyes clenched shut, as if shielding herself from the inevitable horror that awaited her. Every muscle in her body tensed, bracing for the impact, but then, a familiar voice made itself present.

"Open your eyes, darling, it's over," you uttered, your voice trembling with the shock of what had just transpired.

Slowly, Natasha's eyes fluttered open. The room came into focus, and as her gaze fell upon you, the realization of what you did hit her immediately.

You then reached for the small monitor that was in your adoptive father’s pocket and unlocked the restraints that held Natasha captive. She carefully removed the tape on her mouth.

Her eyes glistened with shed tears as she threw herself into your arms, her body trembling against yours. The resentment and doubt she once had towards you seemed to dissolve in that moment whilst she held onto you as if her life depended on it.

"I thought I lost you," she whispered, her voice choked with tears and vulnerability.

You held her tightly, your own emotions spilling all over, "I'm here, Nat. This is me. This has always been me."

Her lips trembled, and she pressed them against yours, and in that single, stolen moment, the world around you ceased to exist. Time stood still as your lips met, fueled by a yearning that transcended mere physical desire. It was a fusion of souls, a merging of two hearts that had endured unimaginable pain and now reveled in the sweet taste of redemption.

"I love you," she whispered between kisses.

"I love you too," you murmured, and how unmatched was the feeling of being able to say it when there was no hint of uncertainty on the other side. "And as long as you allow me, I will do my best to keep showing it to you."

After securing the AI and taking down all the guards that prowled the place, you both emerged from the abandoned factory. Although the scars of the event would forever mark your souls, you knew that you had emerged stronger than ever.

Together, you would forge a new path, rewriting the narratives that had threatened to tear you apart, and embracing the love that had always been destined to bring you back together.

This was the accomplished mission that you both were most proud of. Especially because, in addition to having shared years of experiences, adventures, and everlasting memories, it was only a matter of time before you also shared the "Romanoff" last name.

[veneritia]

when comes the dawn monthly update {4.30.2025}

THE STATISTICS

the draft -> ????*** words written this month -> 6,509 words average word count per session -> 542 words words written this year -> 18,891 words

*** I'm both moving my drafts from gdocs into ellipsus (unfortunately, I used the tabs function and those don't port over well to ellipsus) and grouping all of my scenes into actual chapters. But while I'm doing the latter, I'm also doing bits of revision and editing so I still don't know what the actual draft word count is.

STORY NOTES

I'm pulling back a little bit on Fenice's ambitions in the beginning of the story in anticipation of amping it up once she realizes that oh, i actually have a pretty good shot at the throne myself if i play my cards right, huh. at the beginning of the story, Fenice is pretty much convinced that her only way to ensure a future for herself is through Charles' favor

Nike's introductory chapter from his POV added!

I think I've accidentally given Nike some self-destructive tendencies. At the very least he's starting to have those thought patterns. Or maybe he's just being petty and spiteful like that, who knows.

Since Fenice is trying to ingratiate herself with Charles' faction, I'm actually having her enter into a bit of an alliance with his mother, Illysandre, so that'll def change the nature of their dynamic as the story goes on, but Illysandre doesn't really make much of an on-screen appearance until Book 2.

Changed it so Leda doesn't get to swear the Fidarius' Oath to Fenice in the beginning so she's still dressing as and being addressed as a noble lady a s opposed to one of the Honored Fidari.

I am adding the Gate Incident back in again! Except instead of Fenice getting lost, I just make her have a *very* bad time.

Andras gets a title change. He's no longer addressed as Imperessor Andras, he's Imperessor-syngenis Andras now. It's a very minor detail that doesn't affect the story at all but the distinction is important to me

EXCERPT

Charles folded his arms beneath his chin, head tilting to the side so that his ear is buried in the crook of his elbow. His pout fades into pursed lips, brows drawn up in concern. "And…are you?" "Am I what?" "Well, that is." The warble of an emerald songbird pierced the midmorning air. In the distance, Fenice could hear the rushing of water from the lake fountain and the ever so distinct plop-plop-plop of jumping fish as they burst out from the lake. Once, when she was little, her mother took her to the river and showed her how she caught fish with a spear. Taught her to watch the shadows, the way the light refracts in the water, and to discern truth from after-images. Remembered the swiftness of the spear cutting through the river, and the stream of blood washed away by the currents as Titania held up her prize. Come, child, her mother said, murmuring a Taulan prayer beneath her breath before hooking the edge of the gutting knife into the fish's side. I will cook this for you. Make sure to eat it all, hm? Food had never tasted as good as when it was hunted by her mother's hand. "I'm unsure of what you want me to say." Fenice thumbed the edges of her page, completely unfocused on the words in front of her. "Should I tell you what you want to hear? That I am well, that I am coping, that my health is slowly but surely recovering?" "I have enough people telling me what they think I want to hear. I am not— I am not so green that I'd lose control of it at the slightest displeasure," Charles sighed. "I'd have the truth from you. Always." "Then you already know my answer."

BLOG STUFF

Nothing new.

Hey, do you think I should start posting this on the first of the month instead of the last? I feel like I'm typically still writing at the end of most months.

TAGLIST (ask to be+/-)

@bloomingwrites @writinglyra @zmwrites @trapped-inadystopianovel @inky-duchess @aalinaaaaaa @seasteading @kaatiba @lazulis-stuff @helemere @sourrcandy @charlesjosephwrites @marrowwife @forever-and-almost-always @halcionic @caninemotiff @socialmediasocrates @zorya-km @smolandweirdwriter @floweryprosegarden

[perplexingluciddreams]

yesterday was BAD.

first in the morning mum was helping me get dressed and my muscles at the left side of my ribs at my back went into spasm which is really really painful. mum gave me cocodamol, it helped a bit. i did swing. it hurt.

the plumbers came a few days ago to put the new bath in. the old one didn't work with my bath lift and i have been struggling. i had a bath once in mum and dad's ensuite bath which was hard. sitting is such hard work. it was too shallow water to begin with then i accidentally opened the plug and we didn't realise until a lot of the water had gone! i was cold.

then the plumbers had to come back to fix the new bath again because it wasn't right the first time. so yesterday i was meant to have another bath in the ensuite but i was too sore and tired so i didn't. mum helped me do a quick wipe wash instead. the main bathroom smells bad of the caulk.

THEN -

i tried to start to answer an ask on tumblr on laptop and i went to save it to my drafts but i closed the tab too fast before it finish saving and now the post is disappeared it is not in my ask inbox and not in my drafts!!!! so now i don't have access to the ask at all anymore i can't find it. it is lost in nowhereland. in the void. so i can't even redo the post because i don't have the ask anymore.

i spent ages writing and it was really hard and i wasn't even finished. and now it is all lost. i worked so hard.

and the reason i closed the tab too fast is cause i had a LOT of sore pressure in my lower tummy meaning i need the toilet really badly. so i started getting antsy needing to fix it but there is lots of steps to getting up and going to the toilet and i was already focused on a task so that was all i could think about in my head so i couldn't sort out the steps in order. i was getting upset and panicky overwhelmed already just from that. i tried to just close everything and put it away but then i did a quick check of tumblr on phone in my drafts and the post wasn't there. disappeared.

i was already anxious panicking upset. my brain got louder. i couldn't move. it is not right. i can't fix it. i was a lot upset. i needed toilet it hurt in my tummy. i was hot from being upset. everything all bad. too much at once. i needed toilet but i couldn't get up. too much all at once. it is not there. i don't know i don't know. panic. bad.

i started hitting. mum came and helped. meltdown. i did hitting and biting. i managed to go to toilet at least (with biting). then more meltdown. hitting screaming crying more screaming. mum stayed. mum encourages me to scream to get the bad energy out because more screaming means less hitting and biting and hurting myself in other ways.

mum is amazing. she tells me i am safe and she loves me. she helps me not hit and bite as much. she tells me it is okay to scream and shout to help get it out of me. she rubs and pats my back and gives me hugs when i am calm enough and rocks me as i cry. she got my chewy and put the fan on when i got too hot.

my first meltdown in quite a while. it was horrible. my throat hurts from screaming. my voice is not used to being used. i get so tired and worn out.

then i had sushi for dinner mum made i like sushi lots. i always feel better and less buzzy more loose after meltdown, even though it is horrible. i also feel more sensitive and raw. but mum and dad made me laugh and smile a bit. laughing is easier after i expel all the bad energy during a meltdown. this one built up for a while i think. i don't know.

i am still really upset about losing my writing. i worked so hard and i wasn't even finished. and i can't redo it because it was an answer to an ask and now the ask is disappeared gone forever i can't answer it anymore. i am really upset disappointed that all my hard work disappeared and can't get it back.

it was about swing and said something like: "your swing is so cool! can you show a picture of your swing? is there anything you do to manage fatigue while in swing sitting up for long periods?" not exact words but it went something along those lines.

ironically part of what i wrote (at least the part i remember) was about how my every day is a careful precarious balance. always trying to avoid some kind of crisis (meltdown, shutdown, crash). because a "tiny" thing can upset the balance. and the consequences are bad and causes further knock-on consequences. and takes time to get back to a careful precarious balance once again.

and then of course a few "small" things happened which fucked up the balance and it all went to shit. aka meltdown.

i put "tiny" and "small" in quotation marks cause they maybe is small for other people but for me it is huge and ruins a day or more. to me it feels like the whole world is off its axis.

anyway it is hard cause even though the meltdown is over i am still really upset and i can't fix it. it is not fixable. my brain is loud. i am still really mentally focused on it cause i hadn't finished. the task is not finished so i can't stop thinking about it. i didn't finish. i need to finish so it can be done and go away from my head. can't stop thinking about it and it is like poking at a fresh bruise over and over.

i woke up early this morning. hot. i hope today is easier than yesterday. i don't know yet. i still feel sensitive and raw. emotions bubbling fizzing swelling inside me.

[meichenxi]

Hanzi update (+accidental trauma talk)

tw illness, trauma, vomiting, weight loss, recovery. I didn't plan to write about this but because of what happened in the last year I can't really write about how I studied Chinese without talking about it. so. but it's mainly about hanzi lol

I've been learning how to write traditional characters with the vague idea that I'd go and study in Taiwan, and also that if I want to write Classical Chinese or Japanese they're far more useful - but the program I want to go to Taiwan for requires HSK7, which I DO not think I can achieve and have the results of before March. Who knows! Perhaps within me lies untold brilliance and dedication!!

...well, I wouldn't rely on it. (I am also busy with a job, a partner, studying an A-level course to begin tutoring it in September, and writing the second draft of my novel.)

And even if I ended up going to Taiwan with my absolutely fantastic HSK7, there's no way I could handwrite all of those words within a year. If I learn 10 characters a day, that's like 3650 characters in a year, but realistically that will never happen - and you still have to actually remember them.

I also know from my last experience where I learnt a stupid amount of characters very quickly (about 800 in two weeks) that I can technically do it, I have a very large swollen brain, but then the brain, being very large and very swollen, promptly burns out. And leaves me to not do any Chinese again for like two months. So basically - completely pointless, because after those two months of rest I had forgotten most of them anyway. I will not be doing that again.

This time around I have been slowly, very slowly, learning things on Skritter. I have about 400 characters so far. I'm not doing words but doing characters, which is a bit slower, but I figure it'll be more useful in the long run. After I have the first 1000, I'm planning to then systematically go through the HSK and TOCFL lists and check I know how to put characters together and which 'jing' is used in 'yijing' etc.

This approach is only really going to work because I know a lot of vocabulary and can read a lot of stuff already - otherwise I wouldn't recommend to anybody without that backbone of vocabulary to just learn random isolated characters, unless you're masochistic or much harder-core than I am.

As I have said in a lot of posts before, I had a very difficult experience in China last August and have basically taken an entire year off studying because in all honesty I just couldn't bring myself to face the language again. Every time I tried I had this crazy grief and nightmares and stress response. What I went through was so stressful that during those two months in China that I lost seven kilograms, as I couldn't eat much without vomiting it back up due to stress and fear, didn't sleep, and ended up having to leave for Thailand pretty severely malnutritioned - which then made me susceptible to illnesses there and I spent the next two months after with awful health, vomiting and weak and generally sick. Luckily I was with friends and I gained the weight again and my period and digestive system sorted itself out.

And I never expected that a language itself could carry trauma? Like. Nobody died, it wasn't like that, I wasn't abused or assaulted or anything but still...for just under a year, every time I spoke or heard or read Chinese I couldn't help thinking of those two months. Even now it's still hard. I'm finding my way back to it but, to be honest, I didn't expect how hard it would be. I thought I could just - move past it, because I'd already had so many great experiences in China and Taiwan and with Chinese, that they would cancel each other out or at least be aided by the huge amounts of love that the language has shown me. Alas, it was not the case.

Anyway. All of that to say - I have only managed to do about 400 characters in a year, because I essentially gave up studying completely.

Now I've just finished reviewing and re-remembering those 400 characters on Skritter, so I'm ready to start again! I don't know what's changed, I guess just time - I feel more positive, I feel curious and interested about the language again. I don't know. I'm not going to question it too deeply. But for these past two weeks, I've been having a lot of fun :)

I'll update everyone on my progress as I go! Next post - 500.

[mabledonut]

Number 11 from the Fic ask? 😊

11. Is there any scene you can't wait for people to react to when reading? Why?

...and once again, the answer is yes!! thank you for asking!

For each of my ongoing WIPs, there's at least one scene, usually multiple, where I start a draft wondering if it'll turn out any good, and then I write a basic idea, and then I reread it, and then I rewrite it, and then I get tired of it and leave it for later, and then at some point I take a shower and have a Big Idea in the shower, and so then I dry off and run to the computer to write down all the notes and dialogue, and then later I reread and rewrite it all again, and then I continue that process 2-10x times or so, and by the end of the process, I usually have a scene that I'm like "oh damn!!!! I can't believe that happened!!"

And I am always thrilled when readers have the same reaction! In the last week or so, I published a few of the more dramatic chapters of UATW and had a lot of big reactions in the comments, which is such a wonderful feeling as a writer. I wrote the first drafts of these scenes literally years ago, so I've gotten tired of rereading and reacting to them, but it's so fun to experience the fresh thrill of it all over again when sharing it with others.

Mild-ish spoilers for two ongoing long fics under the cut:

There are some big upcoming unpublished scenes for that fic series that I think will be similarly exciting to share. One of Kakashi's biggest unspoken problems just got revealed to his closest associates, but another of his chronic secrets is *finally* going to be addressed in the final chapter. And this is one of the ones that readers have asked about multiple times, so I know it's on some readers' minds 🐕.

For "Abandon," probably the scenes i'm most excited to share have to do with the use of Kakashi and Obito's Sharingan telepathic link. They've just barely gotten to the point where they're both aware of it and able to access it intentionally, but the unpublished section of the fic goes into a lot more of the whole mind-sharing business that has only been hinted at up to now. But it was something that I had planned ever since beginning the fic, from that first time on the bridge when Obito accidentally opens the link and very briefly sees/feels some of Kakashi's memories without understanding what's happening.

Without hopefully spoiling too much, i'll mention that there's a part in an unpublished chapter where Kakashi experiences temporary paralysis, although he doesn't know for sure if it's temporary or not. But what's stressing him out the most is that there was a huuuge battle before this and he lost track of Obito and can't even ask if Obito survived:

...and Obito is actually fine, more than fine really:

But Kakashi can't rest until...

....okay, that was a longer than necessary sneak-peek, and sorry some of it is choppy, but it's been forever since I updated this fic or even worked on it, and once I get started rereading I end up rereading a lot, and getting excited to finish and share it all over again.

There's always a lot of unpublished fic in my WIP folder so please feel free to stop by anytime and ask for a snippet or two, i'm always happy to indulge myself curious readers 🙂🧡🧡

[sofiasfanartcollection]

( @the-starry-seas Hi! I was working on a reply to your lovely ask but when I saved it as a draft, it seems to have disappeared, so I hope you see this. )

Hello!!!! Thank you for the interest, I don’t have commissions open at the moment—but I am hoping to soon, once I figure out some things. (I have wanted to do commissions but I often get overwhelmed with figuring out payment methods, if I need a business license etc.) I will be sure to let you know if I get commissions set up :]

And thank you so much, I would love to talk about River!!!

She’s my mutant-sona for Rise of the Tmnt, and was a human mutated to be part white-tailed deer by one of Draxum’s oozesquitoes. Her power from that mutation is growing and controlling plants. (She can grow any plant if she knows what it looks like.)

She was then mutated a second time with split gill mushroom dna (although she attacked the oozesquito with a venus flytrap  and was only partially mutated.) Because the mutation wasn’t as complete, River can’t really control her second set of powers—which are ghost-like abilities. She can float, turn transparently purple, shrink, and summon a misty substance. However, these things tend to happen when River’s stressed, scared, or sad and can be hard to stop. They are more of a hindrance than a power most of the time. (You may have seen these, but here’s some art of her ghost-like form: https://www.tumblr.com/sofiasfanartcollection/732748080571613184/ghostly-here-are-some-doodles-and-a-rough)

(Also, I’m not sure how far you looked back, but here is my first main post for River with info about her: https://www.tumblr.com/sofiasfanartcollection/711553332660076544/my-rise-sonamutant-sona-river-river-sheher )

River was an aspiring children’s book author and illustrator, and had come to New York, from California, to pitch one of her ideas. After the whole being a mutant situation though, she lost the confidence to push on with that dream. She was homeless for a while, and grew lots of small gardens for fellow people living on the streets. Later, she meets Todd, and they become friends, and she moves into the woods near him. They go on lots of nature walks together, and she often volunteers at his puppy sanctuary.  https://www.tumblr.com/sofiasfanartcollection/735215068459024384/one-of-the-quickest-ways-to-befriend-river-is

She’s friendly towards the turtles, though it takes some time for her to feel comfortable around them, since she’s a pretty quiet and anxious person and they are vigilantes basically and are so full of reckless energy. She connects with Mikey over a shared love of art, sews little accessories for Raph’s plushies, enjoys Leo’s jokes, and grows exotic plants for Donnie to study. After the movie, she and Todd both spend time supporting them and their family as they recover. 

River does not get along with/is very scared of most of the mutant villains, but does kind-of accidentally befriend Hypno and Warren. When she first meets them, she finds a lost and trapped Warren (I have a headcanon that he gets lost every once and a while, being so small) and helps him get back to Hypno. Seeing them together, River instinctively feels that they are safe people. (Of course, they’re not safe really, even though they don’t mean her any harm. But River can be a little too trusting when her anxiety calms down.) 

She meets them again when she is running a flower stand at the hidden city, and they become repeat customers. 

Then, after she hears about the run-in they had with Draxum (in Warren and Hypno Sitting in a Tree) she goes to check in on them. After that they meet up every once and a while to visit and play board games. (At this point, she knows they are thieves, but isn’t judging that since being a mutant makes getting by really hard. She doesn’t know they have tried to kill the turtles.)

However, later on she ends up getting in the middle of a fight between Hypno and the turtles. She is devastated to learn that Hypno and Warren would put people’s lives in danger, especially since the turtles are kids. (Superheroes basically, but still kids.)

River avoids Hypno and Warren for a while after that, but when Hypno goes missing before Battle Nexus New York, Warren calls River and she comes to try and help. 

She ends up giving friendship with them another chance after hearing about how Hypno helped Donnie (and how Warren helped April save the turtles from his twin in that unaired episode). 

[This intersects with an AU of mine (though River is more of a minor character in the AU), that I’m working on but haven’t posted much about yet, where Hypno and Warren get a redemption arc. (It seemed like they were leaning that way in the show too.) Once River knows that Hypno and Warren have been enemies of the turtles, she’s only really willing to be friends when they start working towards setting things right.]

After the movie, River trusts Hypno and Warren when they say they didn’t know what that artifact was and remains their friend as they grapple with the guilt of being part of that disaster.

River had a flower stand at a marketplace in the hidden city, while Todd sold lemonade nearby. (He gives most of it away though, and doesn’t end up working there for long.) River works her flower stand for a year or so and then switches to creating flowers and plants for someone’s (a yokai oc who is a work in progress, maybe a kirin?) shop. She still helps with arranging flowers etc, but it’s less stressful.

When it comes to other people River gets to know, there’s a few yokai working at the market that are nice to her. She enjoys when April is around when she visits the turtles, and River likes to listen to some of Splinter’s stories. Casey Jr. has joined her and Todd on nature walks sometimes. She doesn’t really know Bullhop or Casey Sr. She enjoys visiting with Franken-Foot. And she gave Harold a new little corpse flower plant. 

River can barely tolerate Draxum. If she’s around him for much time at all, little thorn bushes will start growing near her. She has found out though, that she can take control of the vines he grows.

[luminenwalker]

Hybrid-CD1764-FL25623-10

~[ Shattered banners and broken blades. ]~

Patreon Draft 45C16 - It seemed like every path in this city led to nowhere in the end. It was easy to pretend there was a point the journey was leading to, but in the end it was just work to bar to work.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Draft 45 - Some would scoff at the idea of a man flying through the air. I say to you, that you simply lack the imagination of a car hitting a concrete barrier at a high enough speed, and the driver forgetting his seatbelt. Truly pioneers, setting an example for us all.//wire-CD1764-FL25716

Patreon Rewrite 45 - Streaks in the distance guided him slowly through the dust. He was lost and had chosen to wander rather than stay where he had been. He knew now he had walked away from shelter in his foolishness.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Rewrite 45 - I can hear voices in the static once in awhile. Not one of the regulars, just a little pattern around midnight, buried behind everything else. Sneaky buggers hiding their codes on the radio, instead of something sane for that. Fascinating binaries.//wire-CD1764-FL2571

Steam Draft 46 - Smog, ozone, burnt hair and melted plastic, reminiscent in your brain of what you imagine a burning phone charger smells like. The scent of the apocalypse drifted in the luminous fog.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Draft 46 - I can hear voices lately. I don't think i'm insane, because it's like hearing something on television rather than something directed at me. Was that old conspiracy about things being put in teeth fillings something real? I went to the dentist before it started.//wire-CD1764-FL25717

Patreon Draft 47 - Eternity was upon him, stumbling through the streets, searching for sustenance. His eyes could barely handle the holy glow he sought but it was necessary to endure his hangover for now.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Draft 47 - I've developed something strange, after finally getting a neural interface installed. They messed me up, and I can't understand faces anymore. I remember what they're supposed to look like, and what faces are. But, they don't make sense anymore. Like a Picasso.//wire-CD1764-FL25718

Steam Draft 48 - Silhouettes in smoke was their first thought. Didn't mean much that everything was so dust ridden until he noticed something was moving in the storm. Someone was walking up on them now.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Draft 48 - I saw a fire in the sky once. Not the sun, or a trick of the light, but a burning plane streaking through our sky like a meteor leaving the atmosphere. The war meant very little, but all the same it happened. I was too young to understand. That plane though.//wire-CD1764-FL25719

Patreon Draft 49 - It was eating at her. Thoughts wouldn't leave, and seeped in endlessly. Not a moment without them even on the good days. The paranoia came, followed by he tremors came, then the nausea.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Draft 49 - Saw an industrial nightmare of a man down in the Projects. Don't know how someone could do this to themselves, but his body was full of steel jutting out like a drunken doctor accidentally installed rebar into his skin. Guy was wearing a bug mask or something.//wire-CD1764-FL25720

Steam Draft 50 - He puffed as he stared at the 'head. The bugger wanted a wad, not just a few bills. Wasn't worth the cash, with how much he wanted for just a few spikes. Nothing special for the cost.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Draft 50 - It is with great jubilation that I announce you that shortly after dropping my sleeping pills, I have stumbled upon an eviction note and my door lock changed. I am now homeless, drunk, dissociated and the proud owner of a MaccHuat and a substantial amount of cocaine.//wire-Unidentified

Patreon Draft 51 - Gridlocked, yet again. Stinking air conditioner, malfunctioning and unclean, fumigated his car with the smell of burning fungus mixed with oil. The accident already wrecked the commute.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Draft 51 - I can hear drums in my brain. I don't know how to describe it better than that, but I can hear drums. Not the beating of my heart, or some kind of pounding from nearby. Drums in my skull and blood. I feel like I need to do something, like there's a message in it.//wire-CD1764-FL25722

Steam Draft 52 - Streets felt cold today. Heat had dropped from a respectable, egg cooking on the ground heat, to him wondering if winter had come overnight. Strange at best, but he wasn't complaining.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Draft 52 - It'd be nice if we didn't have to scramble in the dirt these days. I almost imagine we've slid backwards, but then I see the nice parts of the city and I understand. Obviously we got the short end of the stick if we're in the Slums or worst places. But, why?//wire-CD1764-FL25723

Patreon Draft 53 - Living in these times was simply put, a descent into chaos. It looks orderly, but below the surface it is always chaos. The kind you buy into and try to hide from simultaneously.//cpd-Luminen

Wire Draft 53 - Everything burns in the end. Everything. There's no real escape from the end of things. The end of your life and everything that comes with it. Watching my neighbour kind of proved that to me last week. Guy got in through his window, and now he's gone.//wire-CD1764-FL25724

Steam Draft 54 - Never stop moving. That was the only way to survive. Never stop moving. She was already behind cover, three pumps in, and the first of the patrol was down. She needs to keep moving.//cpd-Luminen

Patreon Draft 55 - He couldn't figure out what he had done wrong this time. He didn't think he had, but obviously he must have. It was always his fault when someone treated him like this. Every time.//cpd-Luminen

~[ You can hear the banshee's cry under the chimarae moon. ]~

You could hear the howling cry of the distant banshees. Laying under the flowing glow of the triad of chimarae moons through the cracked veins of light in the skies sitting high above.

Stained old banners of scraped skin, coated crimson with the blood of your ancestors surrounded you, hanging over the ancient battlefields of this long abandoned break in this frozen forest you've woken in. Shattered glories mixed with ancient cloth of men left behind in the frost after untold years. History among the ten thousand broken blades of glinting bloody shards of glazed memory, from the long battles that led here over the eons.

Shafts of pale light echoed downwards through the tops of ancient and dying trees, the aura of pounding veins in the endless sky mirroring the eternity of this place.

You could hear the drums beating from your now damned veins the moment the howling started. Burning in your brain, you realise the hunters can already smell your blood. Long before you realised you've been nicked. Old, razor wire-like bushes of thorn and living wire some time back damned you in the night while you tried to crawl rather than sprint away from the huntsmen. The slices along your tired and infected veins spilled your scent and taste onto the ground, making you obvious to the eternal nightmares.

The hunt had begun and you were already trailing behind the hunters in your cold and weary ignorance. They know where you are now, truly and without flaw in their lidless gaze. They can hear your ancestors in your infected veins, screaming at you to run while you still can. And now, they're stalking you in the cold light of the icy twilight days you've fallen into.

The wild hunt had no more need for darkness nor subtlety here in this abyss of cold and confusion, for there was nowhere left you to hide anymore. You will die here, rang the chorus of voices in the aether. They've come to finish the job their kind began so long ago when they came for your forebears. The bloodline that spawned you will be snuffed, one way or another, it was to end. They had decided that long ago.

This forest around you is not truly forest, nor is the sky a sky, or your blood your blood, or your death here a real death. Just twisting torment forevermore, and it will be worse than it was for those who came before you. Your language is lacking for the endless dream you've fallen into surrounded by ghosts of things that never were. Hunted by never-born things from a void outside of existence, the ground lit by a sky of something that isn't light, in a forest where even the air has become murderous, while you bleed your family's history in the frost below, and you feel yourself unravelling in the chaos of non-existence trying to assimilate you into itself like everything else it once had.

Your eyes try to adjust in the chaos as you force your feet to move once again. Onward, your flesh demanding an escape from this fractured corruption outside reality you've found yourself in.

Now you must sprint in the light where once you dreamed of merely crawling in the darkness. The fae have come for you. This was to be three days and three nights. Ones that will never end, because they've never truly began. It would be endless until they stop, even though you know they never will.

All you must do now is the impossible. Escape the huntsmen and the hounds, when you know this is simply the rest of eternity. All you had to do is an impossibility. To fail here now would be worse than being born in the first place. They wouldn’t kill you, they would do worse. Then it would begin again in worse ways. And so, this will be eternity, one way or another. You already knew that.

[jack-o-cat]

I accidentally posted a draft before, so let's try this again

Have you noticed the world seem more beautiful/peaceful since you’ve found yourself?

- I don't know. I still feel the world is beautiful and have a fascination regarding humans, but being able to experience their cruelty first-hand has tainted it. For the first time in my existence, I feel righteous anger towards them. But it's also comforting to know why I feel the way I do. Why I feel the need to comfort everyone and why I feel so betrayed by humans.

How do you feel about gender? Or having a name? Or attraction as a whole? Is it tied to more mortal instincts, or do you still have some essence of it?

- I didn't used to have a gender, I simply existed. Now I do, likely as a result of being in a human society and a human body. Names aren't strange to me, I used to have one before but I don't remember it. If I could, I'd probably start going by it again. I don't know about attraction. I didn't experience it then, and I still don't for the most part.

How do you feel like you physically look? Do you have any preferences in form? Would you change the way you are perceived if you could - and into what?

- I don't have a concept of self. I was a little bit of everything and nothing at all. Constantly shifting in some way. I could look like anything I wanted, though I mostly incorporated human features so as not to scare those I was comforting. I know I had four wings. Two large ones and two small ones. My "skin" was also very pale/translucent and my "hair" and "eyes" were golden

How does your day get affected due to your mystical self?

- I feel trapped in this body. My wings ache to be stretched and it feels wrong for my existence to be so... Static. I feel almost physical pain over not being able to bless the dying anymore. It hurts that I can't wrap my wings around them and take away their pain and fear. I'm also angry. Angry with how humans hurt each other. Angry with how humans lay claim to the definition of holiness and use it to do the most unholy things. Besides that, being angelkin doesn't affect my day all that much. I used to spend a great deal of my time living amongst humans anyway.

Do you incorporate this sense of self in your hobbies / behaviours?

- Not consciously, though I do sometimes wonder if my interest in psychology and helping people is rooted in my old interests and duties

What does being an Angel or being of divine/holy nature mean to you? Do you consider yourself born here, a newly created angel, or one which has been around for a long time? Do you have any thoughts as to why you were assigned human at birth?

- I remember my universe dying and my kind died with it. I guess my soul passed on throughout other universes until I arrived here. I am human, but I'm also a former angel and find comfort in being referred to as such. I still feel phantom wings and a strong sense to my duty, but, in truth, I am no longer devine. Maybe that's why I relate to fallen angels. I had nowhere to fall from, but having lost my divinity and longing for it back does make their experiences feel familiar to me. I feel as if I lost my wings, as if being human is some sort of punishment or curse.

How much sense of “human”ness do you feel, and do you see yourself as equal to humans, something more, or like a watcher of life around you?

- None of it and all of it. This is who I am now but I am still who I used to be. Even back then, I saw humans as equals, and I still do. We simply exist together, there's no reason to treat one or the other as a higher being. That being said, there are humans who I look down upon. They twist holiness into evilness and I don't believe them as worthy of my divinity.

Do you feel like you have some higher purpose and reasoning of being here? A meaning of life, if you will call it that.

- Not really. I exist and get to choose my own path until this body dies and I move onto the next one. I make my own meaning to this life.

Do you have any religious connotations tied to your identity?

- Nope. I'm atheist and still don't expect there to be an afterlife, but that's the extent of my feelings on the matter.

How did you come to realise who you were, and what signs did you exhibit prior to knowing this?

- It hit me out of nowhere. I've felt phantom wings and had visions of myself comforting the suffering for as long as I can remember, but I never thought much of it. Then I randomly had this realization that there might be a reason I feel the way I do so I looked into it and started unlocking so many memories.

What’s your favourite thing about the bodily experience of being on earth? Is there any sensation you really like? (Taste, smell, touch, feeling, etc)

- Taste. Food is so delicious and I can truly experience it now

Would you enjoy if others treated you as some highly being and brought you offerings/treated you like a god/submit to you/worked for you?

- Yes and no. I miss being revered and respected, but it was always mutual. I revered and respected humans too. I would like to recognized as divine again, but not worshipped for it

HEY, Angel !!

Would you care as to describe your experience? I think not enough hear on just how varied and interesting we are, and it would be great to scroll through reblogs of a single post and be able to find those with similar experiences/feelings.

feel free to write whatever but if you would like some prompts:

Have you noticed the world seem more beautiful/peaceful since you’ve found yourself?

How do you feel about gender? Or having a name? Or attraction as a whole? Is it tied to more mortal instincts, or do you still have some essence of it?

How do you feel like you physically look? Do you have any preferences in form? Would you change the way you are perceived if you could - and into what?

How does your day get affected due to your mystical self?

Do you incorporate this sense of self in your hobbies / behaviours?

What does being an Angel or being of divine/holy nature mean to you? Do you consider yourself born here, a newly created angel, or one which has been around for a long time? Do you have any thoughts as to why you were assigned human at birth?

How much sense of “human”ness do you feel, and do you see yourself as equal to humans, something more, or like a watcher of life around you?

Do you feel like you have some higher purpose and reasoning of being here? A meaning of life, if you will call it that.

Do you have any religious connotations tied to your identity?

How did you come to realise who you were, and what signs did you exhibit prior to knowing this?

Do you have any other ‘uncommon’ bits of self apart from being a being of light, in a way? (Therian, otherkin, interests in specific things, neurodivergencies?) YOU DONT HAVE TO ANSWER THIS IF YOU DONT WANT TO!!

What’s your favourite thing about the bodily experience of being on earth? Is there any sensation you really like? (Taste, smell, touch, feeling, etc)

Would you prefer to be in another dimension? Do your senses feel dulled?

What’s your stance on mortality and topics tied to that? Do you believe in reincarnation/past lives/fate/destiny/divine intervention/guardian angels/ghosts/heaven & hell/god/meaning of life?

Would you enjoy if others treated you as some highly being and brought you offerings/treated you like a god/submit to you/worked for you?

What’s your stance on the community?

How do you interpret existence - how does it all seem to feel and what do you take away from it, like.. what do you live for? Do you have a sense of some ideal where the more you experience the higher you will achieve? Do you crave something out of life?

Do you have a ‘gut instinct/feeling’ and has it ever been scarily accurate to the point there could be no other possible explanation other than something holy?

Do you believe you are blessed and/or protected by some invisible force?

Where do you believe angels also show themselves? Are they in those stray rays of light of headlights, do they exist in the bite marks of a wounded animal’s form, is it within the ripples of the water, in the breath of the tree that takes in the wine, in the chill upon a high mountain - or is divinity everywhere?

Do you fear people don’t understand you well enough? Don’t understand us? Have you ever felt like doing something about it?

do you feel bored from these questions already - did you enjoy it- would you like more? Did I give you satisfaction? I find joy through writing, it makes me personally feel incredibly divine, and there’s a calling to know more about other individuals in this mystical and extensive world.. we need to stick together - as a whole. Love eachother. Treat yourselves well, too. Do more of what makes you feel fulfilled and happy. There’s so much complexities to life, but we just gotta handle it all with our own minds - but treat your heart and soul with so much kindness and care.. please- take care of yourself. Find whatever works for you and live forever, my friend. My eternal, immortal friend..

[radiantlyrey]

Thinkin' 'Bout NaNoWriMo

It's getting to be that time of year again--that time when writers everywhere sit down and ask themselves important questions. Questions like, "Am I doing NaNoWriMo this year?" and "If I am doing NaNo, what am I even gonna write?"

I am planning to do an abridged NaNo this year--probably not more than 20k words for the whole month. (Part of me always wants to shoot for 50k, but the rest of me knows me better than that, and knows that down that path lies horrific burnout, so.) I am having trouble choosing which story I want to work on.

Which brings me to you, Tumblr.

Here are my current story ideas for NaNoWriMo. There are five of them, and I've listed a little summary for almost all of them, along with some personal pros and cons.

Idea #1: Fantasy Titanic This idea came to me in a dream two years ago (no, really). The basic gist is thus: What if Titanic (1997), but instead of a love story, it's a heist story, and also there are elves and magic and shit? The summary:

The grandest cruise ship of the century is setting off on its maiden voyage. Passengers include young Neela, who is crossing the ocean to meet her fiance before their wedding, and Alice, a sorceress and unwilling conwoman/thief whose mother has chosen Neela as their next mark. The con is nearly done when disaster strikes--the ship hits an iceberg and begins to sink. In the chaos that ensues, Alice must make hard choices, not least of which is who she wants to be if she survives.

Pros and Cons: +I already have the first half of the story plotted out. +I already have extensive profiles of my two main characters written.

-I have to do a lot more research on the actual ship and the disaster. -I feel like some of the plot I do have needs to be reworked.

Idea #2: Beauty and the Beast Retelling This story is a rewrite of a story I wrote about 15 years ago in my online writing group. I've been wanting to retackle it for a while now, and I spent some time this past spring making plans for it. I don't have a formal summary for it yet, but.

The story follows the basic shape of the original fairy tale, but with some modernization and fantasy twists. The story is set in the US, and it's set in a world where magic has been gone from the western world for well over a century. Other than that, things are more or less the same: Penniless father of three daughters gets lost on the way home from a trip, ends up at a mysterious and obviously magical mansion. He accidentally offends his host, a monstrous Beast, who demands the father give up one of his daughters to the Beast, or else return himself. The eldest daughter (rather than the youngest) agrees to go in her father's place.

Pros and Cons: +I have almost three-fourths of the story plotted out. +I am eager to revisit this idea and improve on my first attempt.

-I may need to do some more worldbuilding before drafting can begin. -I’m not sure if I have a good grip on my main character yet.

Idea #3: TRON/Pacific Rim Crossover I have had this idea for about five years now, and it's a basic "what if I mashed these two universes together?" style crossover. My concept is a series of fics that follow TRON character Quorra's point of view of the Kaiju War, and her journey towards eventually becoming a Jaeger pilot with Sam Flynn (another TRON character). I've got about five or six of the stories already plotted out, though I don't have much more of a summary.

Pros and Cons: +I know how the next few stories are meant to go. +I am feeling enthusiastic about the story as a whole, and am eager to continue work on it.

-I am kind of blocked on the second story, and have been for a while. -I’m still worried no one’s going to read this thin, so what's the point.

Idea #4: TRON '82 High Fantasy AU Not much to say about this one except that it's very new, but here's a summary:

Chesst styles himself the God-Emperor of the Seven Realms, and has outlawed worship of the old gods. Those who still cling to the ancient ways are consigned to the empire’s gladiatorial arenas, forced to fight to the death in dangerous games. Tron, a former knight-paladin of the realm of Enqor, has spent nearly a year in the arenas, fighting and surviving and keeping his faith alive. The gods have not forsaken him yet, and he knows they will not let Chesst’s blasphemy stand. When an amnesiac prisoner named Flynn arrives at Tron’s arena, Tron and his friend Ram are tasked with preparing him for the games. As Flynn recovers and trains, it becomes clear that he is much stronger than even Tron expected. He has access to a powerful magic that he cannot fully control, even with Tron mentoring him. As the start of the games approaches, Tron can only hope that Flynn’s true power can be concealed long enough for him to control it, and perhaps long enough for the three of them to escape.

Pros and Cons: +It’s a new idea, which means it could spark a lot of creativity. +I think it could be a fun idea to explore at length.

-I’d have to do a ton of worldbuilding to get ready to write it. -I also need to plot the whole thing (or at least part of it), with the original film as a guide.

Idea #5: The Face in the Mirror This is also a new idea and yet another TRON story. Concept came about a post on here about what might happen if one program's disc was put on another program's body. I've billed this one as a horror story; here's the summary:

Metz is having a little trouble with his memory. He remembers… horrible things, things that don’t make sense. He remembers derezzing, or at least, he thinks he does. His best friend and lover, Starr, says that it’s just a packet of bad code that will purge itself in time. She reassures him that he’s fine, and he wants to believe her, but… Sometimes, it’s like someone or something else is inside his body. And every time he sees his reflection, he’s startled by the face staring back at him…

Pros and Cons: +I know the basic shape of the story already. +The plot will probably fit my lower NaNoWriMo goal of 10-20k.

-I have no idea how to write a horror story. -I’m not sure I have enough enthusiasm for this idea right now.

I do not promise to abide by the results of this poll, but I'm interested to see what y'all think of my conundrum.

[aobawilliams]

First Line Tag Game!!

I was tagged by @idontonlytalkaboutdcmk

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

I’ll try to go from more recent to older (date of the creation of the doc will be written in MM/YYYY format), but this might not correspond to the time the sentence was actually written. (I might have missed some stuff but, oh well, whatever.)

1- (04/2021) Aizawa meets Izuku AU (MHA, OS in progress)

It was luck that brought Shouta here.

2- (03/2021) Vigilante Yagi AU (MHA, in-progress, either a long-fic or a serie of OS)

All Might has been a hero longer than he has ever been Yagi Toshinori.

3- (02/2021) Dad For All AU (MHA, various blurb on tumblr so far, most likely a longfic)

Izuku was trying really hard not to panic. One second he was fighting a villain with a still unknown quirk, the next he found himself __ years in the past, according to the news report currently going on TV.

4- (02/2021) Midoriya Inko’s Guide To Good Parenthood (MHA, in progress, probably a serie of OS?)

Midoriya Inko isn’t anything special. She's 30 going on 52, has a really bad case of anxiety, can and will cry for any reasons, and has gotten so many grey hair from her son's shenanigans its a wonder she still has green hair.

5- (12/2020) The Kids Will Be Alright (DCMK, spin-off of Sharpen Your Knives)

Ran was running. Fast, fast, faster, not fast enough. She put all her strength in her legs, went as fast as she could.

6- (11/2020) Before the coffee gets cold - The Sisters (DCMK, OS published on AO3)

It was probably foolish of her to come back to this place. But, on the off chance that the rumours were true, she wanted to give it a chance.

7- (11/2020) Sharpen Your Knives (DCMK, in-progress longfic, won’t be published for a long while)

Shinichi has no idea how things could have gone so wrong, so quickly.

8- (08/2020) The Time Travel Road Trip Case (DCMK, spin-off of Who The F- Is This) (technically not the first lines, but it’s the first part I’ve written)

Shinichi(Conan) felt someone lift him up from the back, he turned his face as he came level with their chest, one look at their face and…

Well, guess he found KID.

9- (06/2020) Who The F- Is This (DCMK, longfic in progress, the first chapters are on AO3)

Shinichi’s head was throbbing. He felt like someone was playing drums with his head. What has happened?

10- (06/2020) Harrinichi Kupotter (DCMK & Harry Potter x-over, longfic in progress)

Shinichi doesn't really believe in superior beings, gods or the supernatural. So far everything in his life could be explained by science and very human tricks.

11- (03/2019) Naobuza & Raphtaku AU (The Rising of the Shield Hero & Naruto x-over, an old baby I keep coming back to)

If you were to ask anyone to tell you about Naofumi Iwatani, those who remember him would tell you that he’s a weird kid. There’s something otherwordly about him, as if he was evolving in a totally different universe from them.

12- (01/2019) The self-indulgent FMA TT au (FMA, an old project that I should go back to, someday)

Somehow, sometimes, Ed felt like there was some being out there, out for him.

13- (01/2019) Nanadaime time travel AU (Naruto, will most likely be an OS, one day I will finish it enough to post it on AO3)

It was a late night In the Hokage office, one of many. As was usual by now, the Hokage was filling paperwork at his desk, his right-hand-man filling his own number of files at his side.

14- (11/2018) Baby Ed saving the world with hugs and punches (FMA, an old project that I will go back to)

On a warm night during the summer of 2005, as the sun left it’s place for the shining stars, Edward Elric went to sleep for the last time besides his lovely wife, in the house he has rebuilt with his own two hands.

15- (06/2018) The roadtrip 03Ed never knew he needed (FMA03/CoS & Fantastic Beasts and where to find them x-over, a serie of OS)

He wasnt sure what brought him back here.

Maybe he just wanted to make sure Envy was dead, one monster less in this world. Or maybe he just wanted to make sure there was no way between both world (no way to go home.)

16- (04/2018) Badass Women Roleswap AU (FMA, I still sometime go back to it, will most likely be a serie of OS)

Ed didn’t have many memories of his father. He could remember a tall man, who always looked sad. A giant who always had trouble when it came to holding him and his brother. A figure always working in his study. A person who always looked sad when teaching them alchemy.

17- (03/2018) FMA TT fic I wasnt planning to expend (FMA, old project, I will get back to it.) (it is, also, the first fanfic idea I got when I got back into writing fics)

Nothing happened as it should have been. No matter everything they’ve done to try and stop him, the dwarf in the flask still managed to bypass it all and, in some way, reach his goal.

And that’s pretty much it for any written stuff I got (anything else is too old)

Bonus: A la recherche du canard (Looking for the duck) - it’s an old assignment I had for french class, where we had to pick an article and write a short story based on it. (When I say old, I mean it’s from 2012 - it’s a good way to see how far I’ve come). It’s honestly really bad but I did have a lot of fun back then. (This is a translated from french version btw) (yes I stole names from Hetalia I was always terrible at finding names for characters)

The sun shined upon the sleeping man face, who opened his bright blue eyes. He got up suddenly, throwing his blanket on the ground. Today would be the day where he, Alfred F. Jones, Yorkville police officer, would accomplish his mission: keeping an eye on the annual fair set-up.

So, observations: You can very clearly see me go through various fandom phases it’s funny. Also my naming skills for the AUs got slightly better (but not that much.) I do tend to drop a name (usually the person from whom the POV is) in those first sentences. The first paragraph tend to get shorter with time (which might simply be because I realised I tend to lose focus when it gets too long.) I also never start on dialogue, generally I go for the POV’s thought uh.

I do quite like the ones for the Vigilante Yagi AU and the Midoriya Inko’s guide, The Kids Will Be Alright too. Badass Women I like it but also am not 100% happy with it.

This mostly made me want to share even more about these stories to y’all.

Anyway! Tagging @whoever wants to do it! I’m not sure whom I follow has already done it/been tagged or not, uuuuhhh, maybe @artistfingers ? If you’re a writer and wants to do it then go for it and tag me I guess.

[queenofsimpsblog]

believe me - shuri x reader pt 2

HCEWUGCFYUEWG so my dumbass accidentally deleted the 2nd draft, so i had to rewrite this bad boy MULTIPLE TIMES to make it absolutely perfect for you guys, cuz everyone loved pt 1 so much i just knew i had to make pt 2 as perfect as possible WARNINGS: mentions of drowning, fight scenes, gets a little graphic towards the end, pure fluff ending here are all the accounts that asked for a pt 2 (sorry if i missed a few): @shurislover @taiiunknown @sinsikoxo @mysticalmarss @lilroachsworld @angelsmist @ogbells16 @youralphawolf72 @6-noir @awolfcsworld @adeola-the-explorer @shuriszn @kya-rose @minionslikeppl @anonassbjtch @miguenza @dovesbeauty @yamsthoughts @k3nn3dyxo honorary mention to @locoforshuri WHO HAS IGNORED ME FOR SO LONG SMH LIKE BITCH ARE YOU ALIVE?! ARE YOU DEAD?! HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IF YOU IGNORE ME LIL SHIT?! YOU GOT OTHER HOES OR SMTH?! I THOUGHT WE HAD SMTH SPECIAL ok i'm done with my lil rage outburst, y'all have fun reading this <3

"what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

*20 minutes ago*

"oh please. you're just jealous that i love maya and not you," shuri spat out. you were too upset to deal with the way her comment stung your heart, so you chugged the remainder of your drink and left the booth.

shuri shut her eyes and sighed in annoyance. she regretted her words the instant they left her mouth. she wanted to get up and look for you, but your body was lost in the dancing crowd.

she downed her scotch, still feeling thirsty. shuri was feeling out of sync the entire day. she felt parched, hungry, nauseous, irritated. it wasn't her period, no. it was something else.

she stayed at her seat, drinking shot after shot. one of the downsides to being the black panther was an incredibly fast metabolic rate. in layman terms, she couldn't get drunk that easily.

she stayed at her seat, staring at her hands. thinking of you. missing you. feeling guilty for what she said.

just then, her kimoyo beads buzzed. an SOS message from you. the alcohol instantly evaporated as she saw the alert. shuri got up from her seat, using her panther vision to locate riri at the bar, talking to the waitress who flirted with her earlier.

***

(lil smth for the fight scene)

"what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

you turned from your seat to look at maya, standing at the door frame, looking angry, and a tad bit scared.

"me? what's all this?! who the fuck are you, and why are you here?!"

"that's none of your business."

"excuse me?! oh fuck this. i'm showing shuri all of this, right the fuck now," you waved your phone at her smugly. maya reached ahead for it but you blocked her hand with your other arm, throwing her against the bookshelf, knocking a few heavy books down that hit her on the head. you took that as your chance and made a run for it.

while running, you opened your sling bag and put your phone inside, zipping it up and putting the sling around your shoulder to make sure the phone wouldn't fall down anywhere.

the sound of bullets being fired gave you an extra push to make you run faster. just then, maya switched to a different weapon. it sent a thick string of black slime that got hold of your foot and yanked you down. she then changed the setting to withdraw the slime, pulling your body to her so that she wouldn't have to run after you. she used a weapon that you designed against you. unbelievable. while that was happening, you took off an earring and hurriedly sent an SOS signal to the first contact that popped up, and threw your earring aside.

your body was being violently dragged towards maya, and when you were close enough, she made a move to get your purse. you punched her in the nose and pushed her head aside, giving you enough space to get up and a break for it again. that's when maya drove a knife in your thigh. you yelled in pain, as you tried to move. but maya was one step ahead. she took a white cloth and put it over your mouth. at that point, you realised that fighting against her was futile. in your final moments of consciousness, you took off your bracelet and threw it down before passing out.

maya smirked, proud at herself as she dragged your body to a secluded corner of the floor. drops of blood from your thigh marked her path. a large, potted plant stood there. she kicked it down, and pressed a button on the side, revealing a secret tunnel opening. she carelessly threw your body down the tunnel and gave you a slight push, following you afterwards.

***

"yeah, well, that's how i learned using a blowtorch to reheat a grilled cheese sandwich was a bad idea," riri spoke and the waitress laughed, smiling profusely.

they looked cute together, and shuri hated to interrupt the moment. but if the message wasn't an accident, and your life was actually at stake, then she knew that she had to do something about it.

"riri! i need your help to find y/n,"

"why don't you just track her with those beads?"

"it says she's right at the club, which doesn't make sense because i can't see her anywhere,"

the waitress interrupted their conversation. "if y/n is the type of person to trespass, you might want to check the third floor. she might've gotten too drunk and gone there by accident,"

riri smiled at the woman and thanked her for the suggestion, taking shuri's hand to lead her to the elevator.

"wait a minute, wasn't y/n supposed to be with you the entire time? why'd she leave?"

shuri sighed, angry at herself. she told riri what happened, causing the american to frown at her.

"dude, what the fuck?! that was totally uncalled for. y/n was just tryna help you. and besides, the rejection hurt her already. you didn't need to bring it up again,"

shuri stayed quiet. she knew what she did was wrong. but the constant hammering in her head robbed her of the ability to think properly.

the elevator door opened and they walked around, hoping to find you. the atmosphere was sinister. both women could tell that something bad happened there. riri looked at her friend. "i'll check the right side, you check the lift," shuri nodded silently and walked away, carefully assessing the scene. her feet led her to the very secluded room you found before, and she was more than shocked when she found everything.

the stalker board. the computer with wakanda's security secrets. it was all so overwhelming. what hit her hard was when she saw this one symbol on this piece of paper.

it was at if it put her in some sort of trance. memories flashed through her mind. the symbol was of the french embassy. she remembered seeing it when she first saw maya.

only when maya first introduced herself, she didn't go by that name. she said something else, but shuri couldn't remember. it was as if someone drugged her.

was that possible? was someone brave enough to drug the protector of wakanda? her thoughts were interrupted when she heard riri yell for her.

"shuri! i found something!!"

she ran towards riri's voice, and stopped when she saw the girl hold something in her hands.

"it's y/n's earring. she dropped it. do you think it's some sort of clue?" riri asked. shuri looked at the piece of jewelry to be sure. yes. it was yours. her gaze went down to the drops of blood on the floor, trailing off elsewhere. she gestured to it. riri got the message. both of them silently trailed the path of blood until it stopped and a knocked down plant.

shuri went closer to get a better look, and found the button. slightly hesitant, she pushed it, and the secret door opened up. both women looked at each other.

"you think that's where she went?" riri spoke as she looked around the tunnel.

shuri spotted the black bracelet on the floor and picked it up. "this bracelet belongs to y/n. i bought this for her last year. i think she dropped it on purpose. you were right. she's leaving clues for us,"

"but where does this tunnel lead to?"

the black panther lifted her kimoyo beads up. "griot. scan this opening, please. tell me where it leads to,"

"just one moment, panther," griot stayed quiet for a few seconds. "it appears to lead to a cave, your majesty. it's hidden quite well, deep within the ground. i sense some water bodies nearby. i believe it is somewhere near the river border,"

"okay, well, we're going after her," riri started removing her jewelry, getting ready to fight whoever tried to harm you.

"one moment, miss williams. i believe entering through the same opening may be a foolish choice, as you would land right in front of the enemy. there is another entrance to the cave. but you need to be able to hold your breath to use it."

"griot, do you have access to any security footage here?"

"my apologies, panther, but there are no surveillance cameras here. maya had them removed once she bought club purple,"

shuri groaned in frustration. "alright. send me the coordinates for the second opening. alert okoye and the dora milaje. get them on standby. i'm getting my girl back,"

shuri and riri sped their way back to the palace so that shuri could get her suit. riri changed into a bulletproof tracksuit she made for herself a couple years ago. they couldn't go save you in their club outfits, could they?!

while the royal talon fighter sped its way to the second entrance to the secret tunnel, riri asked her friend what she found on the other side of the hallway.

"maya... that's not her real name. y/n was right. she was using me. there was something off about her. i should've listened. this is all my fault," shuri dragged a hand on her face as riri rubbed her back.

"don't worry. we'll find her. she's gonna be okay. but wait, what did you say about maya? that ain't her real name?"

"i don't know, my memory is being weird. i somehow cannot recall what happened the day i met her. how we ended up dating. it's as if--"

"as if you were drugged?" riri finished the sentence. suddenly, everything clicked. shuri remembered everything, and blurted all of it out to riri.

***

you woke up. jittery, confused. taking a look at your surroundings, you realised that maya had you captured. you were tied to a wooden chair, and you seemed to be stuck in some sort of cave. there was a table in front of you, with a small black rectangular object. it looked like a taser, but you weren't quite sure. the wound on your leg was bandaged up. but who bandaged you in the first place?

"rise and shine, you little bitch," maya's voice loomed from behind you. she walked around to face you, and you sneered at the sight.

"oh i knew there was something off about you,"

"oh, yes, you clever girl," you noticed the change in her accent. initially, she spoke in an american accent. then, it changed to a french accent.

you raised an eyebrow. "french? what are you, a spy or something?"

she let out a sinister laugh. "well, yes. you could say that. i suppose since i'm about to kill you, i can tell you who i really am," well, there it was. maya's truth. what you'd been waiting for.

"my real name isn't maya. it's roberts. gabrielle roberts. i work for the french embassy, and was sent here to gain intel on wakanda and their military facilities. to get that close, i needed to get into the palace. and what better way than to seduce the queen?"

you laughed mockingly. "bullshit. shuri would've seen that coming a mile away,"

gabrielle sighed. "yes, you're right. she did. she was very skeptical of me when she first met me. i tried seducing her the old fashioned way, but she was entrapped by another woman. you, i believe."

"huh? excuse me??"

"did you not know? it's so obvious. i had to spend some time spying on shuri before i could approach her. she's in love with you."

you weren't buying it. you spent a decent 2 months telling yourself that shuri never wanted you that way and never will. and you refused to believe the word of a woman who lied about her identity to everyone.

"if she was so in love with me, then how did you bag her in the first place?"

"oh. simple. i drugged her."

"YOU WHAT?!"

"ah, relax. nothing too serious. although i had to keep giving her large doses for the drug to work. that lady's metabolism never takes a break,"

the strength of the black panther. shuri's body could break down complex chemicals within moments, so gabrielle had to continuously drug shuri to make sure she could still stay close to her, to gather all the intel she needed.

fortunately, she hadn't given shuri a single dose in over 6 hours, which was enough for the effects of the drug to completely wear off.

"so if you needed shuri for the intel, why'd you bring me here?"

"because, for the final part of my plan, i need to get access to the weaponry database. and as far as my research goes, you're the only one who can crack the code which will give me access to those records. so," she dragged your chair to the table and opened up a laptop in front of you.

"do it."

"do what?"

"open up those records. or i will blow your brains out," she shoved a gun to your head. you looked at gabrielle with wary eyes.

"dude, how stupid are you? how do you expect me to use a laptop if my fucking hands are tied behind my back?!" gabrielle sighed and moved to untie you. your wrist was swollen and bruised.

"i can't do it. my hand is busted. and besides, there's an encrypted code protecting foreign users from entering the database. it'll take months to break through it,"

"i don't have TIME for this!" gabrielle's voice echoed through the walls of the cave. she grabbed the taser and brought it to your abdomen, burning you with the current. silent tears ran down your cheeks. you couldn't die like this.

"i give you five minutes. figure it out, or i'll open that latch on the floor and flood the place. you have a fear of water, don't you? ah, it'll be hilarious watching you drown," with that, gabrielle walked away.

you started hyperventilating. things weren't looking so great for you. you weren't lying when you said the encrypted code would take months to break through. hell, it took nearly a year to make it that secure! you looked around the cave, trying to find a way to escape, to break through. the latch down opened up to water, but you had no idea how long you'd have to hold your breath until you'd reach the shore.

you left shuri some clues. the SOS message, the jewelry, the blood. you hoped that she'd find those.

ah, who am i kidding? she doesn't love me, she'll never love me. and now, i'm gonna die alone. why? cause i'm a paranoid bitch.

your five minutes were up and gabrielle walked back inside, an evil grin plastered on her face.

"time to die, whore."

you froze, accepting your fate. gabrielle lifted up her gun, ready to pull the trigger, when an explosion from behind sent her body hurtling in front. water and rocks splashed everywhere as you tried to see who was there.

shuri.

it was shuri. she first ran to you, her mask disappearing.

"sthandwa? are you okay?" she assessed you for any injuries, and got anxious as she saw your bleeding thigh and swollen hand.

"i'm fine, i promise," you replied, but you looked like you were gonna pass out. riri came from behind you and grabbed you gently, taking you outside where the royal talon fighter hovered, a medical team inside prepped to help you with any injuries.

"you drug me, lie to me, and harm the woman i love the most. give me one good reason why i shouldn't blow your face up right now," shuri glared gabrielle, hot rage coursing through her veins. the drugs were now completely out of her system, and she was ready to rip the spy's throat into shreds.

the mask of her suit hid her face as she lunged at the french woman, claws ripping at her chest. gabrielle let out a groan of pain. she tried to fight back, but the black panther was too strong. water began seeping through, and shuri knew she had to leave before she drowned as well. she considered helping gabrielle for a moment, before deciding that a) she was busted pretty bad and wasn't going to make it, and b) she was a threat to wakanda so there was really no point in saving her. the french embassy had come for wakanda before. they had to set an example, so that no other country would pull shit like that again.

shuri managed to get out just before the entire cave was flooded, and ordered the dora milaje to seal the exit, just in case.

the medical staff on the jet aided to your injuries, giving you some ointment and pain pills. before you knew it, you were dropped at the palace. you asked if you could be led to your apartment, but shuri insisted that you and riri stay at the palace for the night. too tired (and traumatised) to argue, you agreed and were shown to your quarters, where you laid down and were immediately taken over by exhaustion as you fell asleep.

***

rays of sunshine pooled through the large window as you slowly opened your eyes, getting up to see a tray sitting neatly on your bedside table. a bowl of oatmeal, topped with your favourite nut butter and fruits lay on the tray, along with the pain medication you were prescribed, a glass of water, some orange juice, and a note. you picked the note up first, instantly recognising the handwriting scribbled on it.

eat your breakfast, and call me once you're done

shuri <3

she drew a little heart next to her name. how cute. you got up to brush your teeth before scarfing down the food, juice, and medicine. seeing as you hadn't eaten in ages, your hunger made sense. as ordered to, you raised your kimoyo beads and gently tapped them to alert the queen.

"y/n! you're awake, how are you feeling?"

"pretty alright. i ate the breakfast you sent, took my meds, and i just got outta the shower. every part of my body is still in pain though,"

"don't worry, i'm on my way right now,"

"oh, no, shuri you don't have to--"

she hung up before you could finish. typical shuri.

a few minutes later, you heard a gentle knock on your door. "come in" you said softly. shuri's cute morning face popped up as she slowly made her way to your bed, sitting down next to you.

both of your backs were against the bed frame as you faced each other.

"hi," shuri muttered.

"hey,"

she didn't look up at you. slightly confused, you grabbed her chin and tilted her head upwards.

"why won't you look at me?"

her eyes started to water. "i guess i just feel guilty. if i had listened to you at first, i could've sent that french bitch away a long time ago. but you got hurt, because of me,"

"hey, hey..." you tried to console her. "don't blame yourself for this. you were drugged. we both know the great shuri udaku wouldn't fall for a stupid scam like that if she was in her senses," she let out a lugh after your comment and you smiled, happy that you could improve her mood.

as you got flashbacks from your cave encounter with gabriella, a specific thing she said crept up to your brain. and you knew you had to bring it up eventually.

"so, listen..." you fidgeted and shuri gently took your hand, intertwining your fingers together. it was a simple act you guys did as kids to show that you had each others backs. it always made your heart flutter.

"in the cave, when gabriella confessed to drugging you, she said it was because she wanted to seduce you but she couldn't do that while you were sober," shuri cringed when you said 'seduce' and you bit back a laugh at her expression.

"she said she couldn't seduce you without drugging you, because you were in love with me." shuri's head shot up as her eyes widened.

"now i don't know which drug she gave, or how much it affected your memory. but i'm pretty sure you didn't forget the day i told you i love you. and yes, i might not be as entirely over you as i said, but i'm okay with you not seeing me that way. i mean, i'll get over it i guess--"

she cut you off by smashing her lips against yours. it took you a moment to realise what was happening before you started to kiss back. you gently grabbed her shirt collar as she grabbed your waist, pulling you towards her lap, making you straddle her. you made out like that for a while before your need for oxygen interfered, causing you to pull away.

shuri smiled like a kid in a candy store. you smiled back.

"you won't believe how long i've wanted to do that. y/n, ever since the day i met you, i knew i was going to make you mine. how can someone not love you?" you giggled before kissing her again.

"so... are we girlfriends now?" you asked, the smile still stuck on your face.

"hmmm, well, let me think about it," you smacked her arm and she laughed.

"alright, alright, y/n y/l/n, my gorgeous princess, my sweetheart, my one and only, will you be my girlfriend? please?" you laughed and kissed her with all your heart. when you parted again, you chucked to yourself.

"what's so funny, sthandwa?"

"i'm just picturing riri's reaction when we tell her this. she's gonna lose the last bit of sanity she has left," both of you laughed at the image before lying down to cuddle, enjoying each other's embrace for the rest of the day.

*lil bonus scene as a sorry for taking so damn long to upload this*

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" riri yelled out as you and shuri laughed. her reaction was everything you pictured and more.

"FINALLY!! GODDAMN YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THE SHIT I'VE BEEN THROUGH!! SHURI YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS A THIRSTY ASS BITCH!! SHOULD'VE HEARD HER FANTASISING ABOUT THIS VIBRANIUM STRAP SHE TOLD ME ABOUT--"

"RIRI!!" you yelled and chased after her in shuri's lab. the queen laughed to herself.

bast, she's crazy. but she's mine. and i'd do anything for her.

[hattiewritesalot]

Hello! If you’re taking votes for the Jane volturi fic I’d vote for a part 2 :) it’s really good, love your writing

tysm! that means a lot to me :D

~Misunderstanding~

Jane Volturi x gn!vampire!reader

Part 1 here!

Summary: So it turns out that (Y/N)'s mate is one of the deadliest vampires out there. Which, y'know, isn't good. But it seems the only thing on (Y/N)'s mind is why their twin Alice didn't see it coming.

Warnings: okay so I've accidentally made Alice seem really horrible in this and I am very sorry for that. Also (Y/N) is too funny in this and it goes terribly off-script and off-plot. soz.

A/N: cleaning out my drafts look at me goooo

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"What the fuck." was the first thing (Y/N) said, it being the first thing that came to mind.

Jane blinked a few times, dark eyelashes fluttering against her alabaster cheeks, before standing up straight and glancing at her brother, before looking back at the group, refusing to look at her mate.

"Come, Aro is waiting."

And with that, she turned and walked towards the elevator, the rest of the vampires, and a lost-looking Bella, following.

The entire elevator trip was silent, besides from the gentle tune of music. Except, it wasn't quiet inside (Y/N)'s mind.

They were holding onto the wall for dear life in an attempt to make sure they wouldn't fall over. Their head flooded with questions, ones that needed answers, as they stared into the back of Jane's head.

That was when they turned to their twin, who was busy staring at the ceiling. They closed their eyes and began speaking in Alice's head, a bonus to their mind-controlling power.

'This is so weird.'

Alice turned to them, acknowledging their statement with a sad smile.

'I know, I could see the way your face fell, I'm sorry (N/N)'

No messages were transferred through minds for a couple of seconds, before (Y/N)'s head shot up and they closed their eyes again.

'Alice?'

'Yeah?'

'How didn't you see this coming?'

'I… don't know what you're talking about.'

'Yes you do, your visions, how did you not-'

(Y/N) turned to glare into the side of their twin's head, who refused to even look them in the eye.

'Did you… know about this?'

'What? Of course… not.'

The conversation was cut off by Edward digging his elbow into (Y/N)'s side, hissing at them to shut up. Oh yeah. They must've forgotten that Edward reads minds. Whoops.

And as the group left the elevator, (Y/N) couldn't help but think that there was something Alice wasn't telling them.

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The room was large and extravagant, with three elegant chairs in the middle, each occupied by a different vampire.

Aro, you guessed, as he looked exactly like how Carlisle had described him to, rose from his throne thingie, and began speaking. In all honesty (Y/N) was not really listening, instead focusing on the ruby gaze of another vampire.

They didn't look at Jane, in fear of her looking away, but they could almost feel her nervousness. Times like this were when (Y/N) wished they had Jasper's power.

Then, far too quickly, it seemed, Edward was suddenly being beaten up on the floor. Okay, that was rude. Yeah, (Y/N) didn't like Edward very much, often having late-night-talk-shit sessions about him with Rosalie, but that was low.

"Okay emo boy, calm yourself." Aro turned to look at them, as did the rest of the Volturi.

"I know this bitch can be a handful, but don't throw him on the floor because you're mad that his hair is less greasy than yours."

The rest of the vampires seemed shocked, insulted even, but out of the corner of your eye you could see Jane and Felix cover their mouths with their hands to try and hide little laughs.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm just being honest. It's my best quality, y'know." The red-eyed vampire shrivelled up his nose as their teasing. "Somebody get this hideous creature out of my sight." He said, waving his hand dramatically.

"I don't think you can talk about being ugly, you look like you got no love as a child and now drown yourself in hair gel to get some form of attention."

Aro's eyebrows furrowed at their sassy remarks, and turned to Jane. "Jane. Now."

(Y/N) turned to look at Jane, who's slightly panicked eyes met theirs for a second, before she turned to look at Aro again.

"I… cannot."

"Pardon?"

"I- they-"

"They're mates."

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Alice had finally spoken up, forcing her way through the small crowd. Gasps erupted from around the room as (Y/N) stared harshly into the side of their twin's head.

"I've seen it, in my visions, for longer than I care to admit. We wouldn't want to separate mates, now, would we?" She asked, her tone slightly taunting.

If (Y/N) could cry, they would've in that very moment. How could Alice, their own twin, the one being they cared about more than anything, lie to them like that.

Aro scoffed, turning to Jane for confirmation, who simply dropped her head to stare at her feet.

He turned again to stare deeply into (Y/N)'s golden eyes, before sighing and flicking his wrist.

"We take the (H/C) one. The rest are free to go."

"Wait what? No you can't do that! I-"

(Y/N) stopped speaking as a large object collided with their head and they collapsed. Due to their power, their head was extremely sensitive, and their weakest point.

Jane watched as Demetri carelessly dragged her mate towards her, essentially flinging them at her feet. She kneeled down to move a few stray strands of hair from their face, before retracting her hand as if she had stung herself.

No, this wasn't right.

It had to be one big misunderstanding.

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