#like whatever the hell you want!!!!! why does this matter!!!!!!!!
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sharpth1ng · 1 day ago
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Can we have a sneak of chapter 6? Don’t push urself btw, breaks are incredibly important
Thank youu🖤 ngl I hate taking breaks but unfortunately im only human.
Anyway, here's a snack, enjoy:
“What, so you’re fucking her again?” Billy spits, ripping his jacket off and shoving it at Stu’s chest.
He’s so jealous.
There’s a muscle jumping in his jaw and he’s clenching his fists hard enough to pop the veins on the backs of his hands, so basically he looks like pure sex. Stu's biting his lip now, it's not voluntary but it's also not defusing the situation at all because Billy’s lip is somehow curling further into his scowl.
“Tammy? Nah. Why’re you mad though?” Stu’s trying not to laugh openly as he hangs Billy’s jacket. He hasn’t seen him so bad since Casey and this is definitely worse. "You don’t want me, remember?”
“I’m. Not. Mad!” Billy’s yelling until he seems to catch himself, but even then he only brings it down to a snarl. “I don’t give a shit, I just thought you had higher standards but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d give it up to whatever desperate whore is willing to fuck you in the ass!" That's the sentence that cracks Stu, so now the laughter is bursting up through his chest and pouring out of him. “-The hell are you laughing about??”
“I- Ha, shit-” He’s trying to say something, he really is but he can’t quite get it out and Billy responds by slamming one of his boots down on Stu’s socked foot. “FUCK!” It’s almost more startling than it is painful but it also does fucking hurt, enough to have his toes curling and his eyes scrunching shut when it hits.
“Tammy fucking Beckett??” Billy roars, cartoonishly red in the face. There might as well be steam coming of his ears.
“Yeah you really don’t sound mad screaming about her like that-” Billy stomps on his foot again, and fuck he should have seen that coming, right? He dropping down this time, clutching at his foot as the pain radiates up through his leg, so mind-numbing that he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before the warm-horny-fuzzies set in. Billy should know better by now. “Fuck, man I’m telling the truth, I’m not banging Tammy.”
“Then why was she here?” Billy sounds like he's auditioning for an interrogation scene.
“I mean, she’s kinda my best friend right now.” Its honest, but Billy visibly flinches when he says it.
“Best friend.” There’s something fragile about his voice as he says this and Stu feels bad for him almost as much as he thinks Billy might actually deserve a little hurt right now. “She’s your best friend?”
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sorcave · 2 days ago
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Hating Calypso does not mean you don't understand morally grey characters and defending her does not mean you understand them.
I've seen many takes from those defending Calypso in one way or another dismissing those who hate her as "not understanding morally gray characters" which is simply isn't true. Defending her as a poor victim who didn't know any better does not mean you understand the concept of morally gray characters either.
The main divide is whether intent, her actions, or both matters in defining her morality and by how much. Either side of that spectrum is missing the nuance of the situation- she's not a supervillain intent on making Odysseus' life horrible nor is she an innocent, naive girl who shouldn't be held accountable for her actions. To me, while I don't think she is evil, she is at the darker end of the "morally gray" spectrum as her actions are so egregious that her intent nearly doesn't matter.
Most defenders use the story that Calypso tells in "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" as their evidence. She didn't INTEND to hurt Odysseus- she hasn't known anyone before so she didn't know! She was just lonely! She just loved him! If you were stuck on an island all alone for 100 years and finally someone came, wouldn't YOU want to make sure they didn't leave? Besides, she apologizes for her actions!
This is a trap that the song actively brings listeners into. It is meant (or at least easily interpreted as) as a plea for sympathy, to make the audience feel empathy for poor Calypso. It is not a simple explanation for her actions and it is definitely not an apology for them. The reason it feels like a "Youtuber Apology" is that they share many similar characteristics. She is intentionally vague about what she is apologizing about, to the point they are nearly irrelevant. "Coming on too strong" wasn't the issue- it was "Coming on too strong" AFTER Odysseus told her no ( "From here you're mine, all mine"/ "Hell No") was. It doesn't address her main crime, specifically keeping a man AGAINST HIS WILL for seven YEARS, even AFTER he became so desperate to leave that he was moments from committing suicide. Lastly, she doesn't take accountability but (intentionally or not) blames Odysseus . "I'm sorry if my love was too much for you" is a VERY common phrased used by abusers to shift the blame from themselves onto their victims.
The crux of the issue for me is while her rough experience up until she met Odysseus may explain her actions, too many people seem to use it to EXCUSE her actions (including, seemingly, the narrative itself). Why this rubs so many the wrong is because of how many real life victims have been told they have to "forgive" their abusers because their life was hard or "they didn't know better." Many who were bullied as a kid had at least one guidance counselor say they needed to "forgive/even befriend x because they are struggling/ \[Insert Bad Thing Here} happened to them." Many others see Calypso using the same tactics their own abusers used to hurt them, and justifiably hate her for it.
I am not saying someone is wrong or stupid for having a more forgiving perspective on Calypso. If you are one to put more weight into intent than actions, I could see why Calypso could be a much lighter gray ( I am not seeing many defenders saying she is an entirely innocent, "morally good" character"). It can be argued that her actions were not of an intentional abuser but of a goddess who haven't had much experience with relationships before, especially with mortals. If her idea of romance came from whatever the Ancient Greek version of romance novels were, it makes sense that her idea of romance may not be the healthiest. Heck, even reading the myths would explain or even excuse why she didn't see "She's my wife" as a sign to back off- for probably at least 90 percent of Greek Heroes, that would not matter.
In summary, Calypso is a morally gray character- but that doesn't mean there aren't valid reason to dislike or even hate her. Seeing her as dark gray bordering on black doesn't mean you don't see the nuance- many who are against her understand her intent may not have been evil- but that her actions make her intent almost irrelevant. So please stop dismissing those who dislike/hate her as simply misunderstanding/being naive with morally gray characters. Many are not (especially since the entire show is full of them) and simply put weight in her actions more than her intent.
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chericos · 2 days ago
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Y/n's lifestyle guide: how to be a heartbreaker
This girl wakes up at 6:30 a.m. on the dot. every. single. day. without fail. It gives her time to plan the rest of her day and properly relax before she answers emails and calls and whatever the hell goes on in that crazy house.
The skincare routine is EXTENSIVE. Shelves upon shelves lined up with creams, serums, and toners. She has enough of everything to last her a lifetime.
CLOSET:
TOPS!— y/n's style is so inconsistent. She likes what she likes, and buys what she wants. All she knows is that her clothes have to be hot and able to break hearts. It's not her fault she was blessed with a great pair of tits, why not flaunt 'em while you have 'em?
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BOTTOMS!— booty shorts, mini skirts, and lots and LOTS OF DENIM. she loves a good pair of jeans. when you see her enter a thrift store, just know she's leaving with at LEAST 10 new pairs. will definitely fight you for the last good skirt on the rack.
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OUTWEAR!— you can never go wrong with fur and leather. this girl LOVES to layer, a jacket for every season and occasion. and yes, of course, it's all real. what do you take her for?
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SHOES!— heels GALORE! a whole section of her closet is dedicated to her shoe collection and she takes it very seriously. thousands of dollars just on the bottom of her feet and she flaunts them with pride. she also loves her boots, ankle, knee, thigh? doesn't matter, she'll wear 'em. and I mean, you can't drive in heels (although she'd love to prove otherwise) so she has her fair share of adidas and new balances in the mix.
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ACCESSORIES!— when you win every race cash can pile up quick, so what better way to blow it all off on a bag collection! this girl LOVES her purses, her favorite brands consist of Miu Miu, Prada, Burberry, and Dior.
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ROOM!— comfort, but what’s comfort without style? pink, animal prints and glitter are the way to win this girl's heart! posters of artists and brands fill the walls. plants in the corner that may or may not be dead. and a bed with enough pillows for a family of 6.
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GARAGE!— her cars and motorcycles are her life! her babies! every week she's in the garage for HOURS fine-tuning them to perfection. playlist blasting loud enough to be heard down the block but no matter how many noise complaints she gets she never seems to turn it down.
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HOUSE!— her (atp everyone's cause they never leave) house is THE spot. its common knowledge that girls weekend is at her house on the third Friday of each month, the house is decorated based on the theme of whatever they're watching that night. and when she does something, she goes BIG! (one year, near Halloween, she hired scarers to sneak up on the girls as they walked down the pathway. let's just say maki was not one to be played with. never hired anyone after that.) close friends each have their own designated room and she stocks up on products that each of them love. limp balm? check your vanity drawer. Pads? hair products? underneath your bathroom sink. she has eyes like a hawk, she'll know what you use religiously and always have it available.
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masterlist.
@ CHERICOS all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate or plagiarise my works
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moonscape · 2 months ago
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i swear to god if any of my criticisms towards any series of this dumbass show lands me in hot water with fans who take it a little too seriously i'm gonna lose my shit
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thebluekid-underyourbed · 1 year ago
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Yknow aromantic and asexual need to start being shown as two different labels more often. Cuz like we aroace people are cool and we have the power to destroy god right, but like aroallo people and alloace people are just as fucking cool.
What is this whole "one cannot exist without the other" bullshit. That kinda shit is only supposed to happen with like life and death. light and dark. peace and chaos. we don't need that, cuz we're all just pure chaos. you want peace look elsewhere, bc aro without the ace and ace without the aro is very welcome into our aro and ace spaces of madness and maniacal plotting to take over the world.
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iniziare · 2 months ago
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Tag drop: Aventurine.
#aventurine. [ mr. cavalier gambler: uptight. overcautious. inferiority complex. you've won so much but you're still so afraid of losing. ]#aventurine: ic. [ they see only the straight flush. they don't know the other hand below the table clutching your chips for dear life. ]#aventurine: inquiries. [ time to make a move my friend. say goodbye before you shuffle off. it's… best to die without regrets. ]#aventurine: countenance. [ now go. and pick the clothes that you like. then choose your desired identity and use them well. ]#aventurine: introspection. [ “sleep is the rehearsal of death”? why does life slumber? because we are not ready for the final rest. ]#aventurine: meta. [ the road less traveled is less traveled for a reason. but you've never gone in any other direction. ]#aventurine: little notes. [ you will keep winning; having never lost before. but why you? why... must it be you? ]#aventurine: wishes. [ even if the chance of winning is close to zero. well... you can't win if you don't play; right? ]#aventurine: etc. [ the chance… no matter how small: the potential is what you hang onto. that is what justifies the gamble. ]#aventurine: ipc. [ … i'll give you that and much more than that. the ipc will give you whatever you want. even what you don't want. ]#aventurine: trio. [ three cornerstones who for a measly penacony... offered their everything. you're more united than the family. ]#aventurine: astral express. [ friends: the game has commenced and you cannot choose to decline… nor do you have grounds to. ]#aventurine: fate. [ if the dice of fate are always weighted then that is our destiny. why then... do we struggle against it? ]#aventurine: past. [ our paths will cross again beneath kakava's shimmering auroras. farewell: kakavasha. ]#aventurine: luck. [ he's only drunk on the moment that makes his very life quiver. hell is only one decision away from heaven. ]#aventurine: topaz. [ i never expected the beautiful and kind-hearted director topaz to resort to distorting concepts like that. ]#aventurine: topaz. [ but since i survived i realized: wherever you go that's where i'll follow; nobody's promised tomorrow. ] immobiliter.#aventurine: jade. [ it's often used as a counterfeit for jade. but it looks like jade… can be substituted for aventurine too. ]#aventurine: veritas ratio. [ unfortunately for him; i make for a more competent conversationalist than the other dimwits around here. ]#aventurine: black swan. [ nothing remains hidden from you… does it? i will find my place in the web of your schemes; memokeeper. ]#aventurine: sunday. [ is this what the harmony represents? is it built upon constraint and coercion? ]#aventurine: acheron. [ only by casting aside reason does one truly gamble. “emanator” — I know you'll match my wager. ]#aventurine: v. youth. [ but the sun could not kill me and the quicksand sent me back to the embrace of the guild and the ipc. ]#aventurine: v. penacony. [ i seem that way because i am nervous. maybe you can help. what do you say; put our palms together a last time? ]#aventurine: v. future. [ the once falling die has at last landed on its earthly rest. quietly… peacefully: it at last landed. ]#tag drop#[ ... i wanted to add in a tag for robin. but i think that may have to come personalized. ]#[ /rubs hands together. lets see if any of these are broken. ]#aventurine: robin. [ so she sings; but does she dance? ] avaere.#[ okay i changed my mind-- there's a robin tag. ]
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cuteniaarts · 3 months ago
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What if… Suiren in Vaatu’s colours 😳👀
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#my art#artists on tumblr#the legend of korra#avatar suiren au#original character#sotrl suiren#Kat once said. and I quote – ‘Suiren would look really good with Vaatu’s colours. you can’t argue because I’m right’#so here I am. not arguing and instead giving the people what they want#because SHE DOES look good in Vaatu’s colours#don’t get me wrong I love her in her usual blue. but the red & black just does something to my brain#lmao I’m picturing her fusing with Vaatu and getting like a magical girl transformation 😂😂😂#okay not really but. if Vaatu could fuse with Unalaq to become… whatever the fuck that thing that sometimes appears in my nightmares was#then he could definitely dye her dress a different colour if he wanted to. okay? okay#and he’d zap her fire nation bracelet into a water tribe one bc it’s important to balance the colour scheme 😤#(for the record this wouldn’t actually happen in universe I’m just messing around)#this AU is just way too fun to play around with. yes I will make my already badass OC into an overpowered Mary Sue who replaces the mc#what are you gonna do about it?#I can’t stop drawing stuff for it#focusing literally only on the fun silly goofy parts because there’s enough heavy stuff in other verses AND irl already#maybe I just want family shenanigans mixed in with a rewrite of LoK’s shitty politics? have you ever thought about that?#is that such a crime?#and most of all. this makes me happy and I like to indulge in it. and enjoying creating is already so rare for me#so as long as this AU keeps being enjoyable for me I’m gonna keep at it no matter what anyone says#avatar suiren is my little self indulgent concept that I came up with when I was 13 and waited far too long to do something with#so now I’m making up for all those years#sue me :)#(is it just me or have I been saying ‘sue me’ way too much recently. idk. my mom’s a lawyer* that porbably has something to do with it)#(*has a law degree but never once used it. why the fuck would she get one when she already has an accountant’s degree? hell if I know)#anyway random side ramble about my mom’s life story aside#what colour do you think a balanced avatar’s eyes would turn when they go into the avatar state?
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skrunksthatwunk · 4 months ago
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household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight
#out of three. please the third episode's what makes it okay im fighting for my life out here#it is NOT for lack of trying on my part but theres only a brief window of time when the olympics is not happening#and as it turns out the watchthrough is Not my mom's first priority (how dare she etc)#i do feel slightly bitter that we've gotten through two eps of band o brothers in the same time#we are fighting for the same timeslots yet somehow the hour long show's gotten a leg up??#you don't have time for a 23 min ep but DO for a 60 min one?? explain the math to me please#idk how to explain the vague feeling of betrayal bc it Does Not make sense Nor matter in the slightest#but cmonnnn we were doing so well. and my little bro's starting up school again soon and my dad's gotta go back to work#sometimes eventually (<- hes on medical leave) and my grandparents are coming over next week We're Losing Time Soon#ughhh if i'd known the olympics were happening (<- somehow completely oblivious to this) i'd have accounted for#my mom getting whisked away by the land of synchronized divers and shot putters and whatever the hell#happens in the summer olympics (<- only pays attention to winter olys)#bc that always happens. and *i* have to go back to school in Some Amount Of Time Im Too Scared To Check (p sure it's late aug though) and#when that happens i'll (hopefully) be stuck across town which means we won't be able to do it any time besides the weekends#and i don't wannaaaaa#i know this is the least important problem anyone's ever had like i get that i know but#it's important to me that they sit down and watch this with me. and watching it pull apart and being#the one who's easily the most invested it makes me look all desperate when i ask them for their time and they can't give it#we can only pull this off neatly in the summer and we were so close and now we're losing it right at the finish line#i don't want life to get in the way of this little bubble i've fought so hard to make y'know#and it's childish and embarrassing and whatever but i just want them to have fun with me with this thing i care about a lot#but i can't do that bc my mom needs to watch the judo matches at Every weight class#even though she's recording a lot of them? i don't understand but whatever i know it's her thing im just moping about it ig#i want it to be as perfect an experience for them as possible and it's slipping away from me#and i don't wanna leave this project unfinished when i start school y'know. sighh#i think they might feel like i only want them around when we're watching stuff. whcih is weird bc that's like#The Singular Way we family bonded literally my whole life so idk why they wouldn't get that when reversed#but either way that IS how i wanna spend time with them. i want them to understand this thing that's become a part of me#and i wanna talk With them about it. and so far it's been fun in a way it's never been before. my mom at least seems to really like it#and i want it to Keep going well bc if we lose momentum im worried they'll start finding it tedious. sighh
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milo-is-rambling · 10 months ago
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Me vs outlining a perfect plan for my day in my head which I can be the only one allowed to change the schedule vs my mom asking me to do 2 simple tasks
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#she was like hey can you take the trash out I was like ughhhh okay yeah give me a min (I was still ordering weed)#my mom less than a minute later : hey if you want to break down all the cardboard out there I’d appreciate it Me: actually I’d rather not I#was about to shower right after I put this weed order in#then she gets all pissed at me bc I never do what she asks and blah blah blah blah blah#like. girl. I know she can’t see in my brain but I was not awake last night watching cleaning videos and psyching myself up for a day full#of cleaning my room and showering and doing laundry and cleaning funks cage and doobs cage and making my bed and dusting my ceiling fan and#taking apart my box fan to clean it and cleaning the water pitcher in the fridge and deep cleaning#like GAH I HAVE SO MANY PLANS TODAY WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DO NOTHING AND JUST SIT ON MY ASS SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP#ripping my hair out and screaming banging my fists on the floor#I literally was like yeah I’ll take the trash out no I will not break down boxes right now and she went off on a whole fucking thing like#just shut up.#I hate it. why do I make plans in my head of the exact order I have to do things and if one person suggest doing anything differently or#pushing my schedule back further than I wanted to myself I get so annoyed I explode into a ball of flames#I wanted to shower dry off pick up weed let out funk refill the humidifier clean the bathroom mirrors throw sort and clean the bathroom#shelves sweep start a load of laundry clean off my desk which means cleaning and organizing my closet or my desk dresser thing to fit the#crap on my desk and I have to clean and reorganize the space next to my desk so I can fit my boombox there bc the humidifier took its place#next to funk and like I want to just cry why does everything have to be so fucking difficult for me why is everything simple for everyone#else and for me every simple task is composed of one million baby tasks that I have to do in the correct order forever or everyone around m#will think I’m stupid and dumb forever like WHAT THE HELL WHY IS IT SO EASY FOR EVERYONE ELSE IN MY LIFE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU JUST DO THING#IN WHATEVER ORDER AND IT DOESNT MATTER WHAT DO YOU MEAN A 20 MINUTE SETBACK DOESNT COMPLETELY RUIN YOUR DAY#AHHHHHHHHHH I WANT TO RIP MY HAIR OUT#BUT INSTEAD. I WILL GO TAKE THE TRASH OUT. AND NOT BREAK DOWN THE CARDBOARD BC THAT MEANS GETTING MY KNIFE AND MY HEADPHONES AND PUTTING MO#CLOTHES ON WHICH IS COUNTERINTUITIVE#TO THE WHOLE ABOUT TO TAKE A SHOWER THING#UGHHHHHHH#I am the worst human on the planet and I deserve infinite suffering#fuck this whole thing I’m pissed I’m gonna listen to music and rage clean after I pick up weed and shower
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whimsyprinx · 2 years ago
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do y’all think stars are happy
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nomairuins · 1 month ago
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the worst part is like . I know it sounds like ocd and i know a lot of ppl with ocd and i watch them talk abt their experiences and i relate a ton but then my brains like How dare you relate to them and try to compare. youre just an evil person and youre trying to pretend you have ocd . and its actually different and the fact you even thought for a second "oh thats similar to what i experience" means that you will be a bad person forever and you cant fix it and you need to go to hell. and you dont have ocd youre just actually an evil person. so i cant actually let myself think abt it being ocd basically
#And like you know . i dont actually know what it is and i cant like. Decide i do bc i relate a lot to ppl who do have it . its just even if#i dont say I think i have ocd bc i relate to this. i cant even think Oh i relate to this without feeling like an awful person. you know .#does this make sense to anybody at all. its very very exhausting#also this is phrasing it like being ocd is the same thing as being evil Obviously it isnt i just mean like ik a lot pf ppl with ocd#experience similar like. worrying theyre an evil person and i also do that but my brain says that i actually Am an evil person as opposed t#just. worrying that i am. and that i only worry abt it bc its true. ok .#idk i worry i sound whiny as hell in these posts im sorry 😭 its just rly kicking my ass tonight the terrors#but its like. no matter what i do im evil bc if i think to myself Oh i relate a bit to this person with ocd my brain says Oh youre awful fo#trying to pretend to have ocd you couldnt possible understand your evil. and if i say youre right then its Oh so why is having ocd such a#bad thing do you hate ppl with ocd you couldnt possible have ocd bc you think youre better than them youre awful but if i say I think youre#being a bit dramatic its like oh so what you think you can just claim to have whatever mental health issue you want. you think you can just#fake mental illnesses and use them as an excuse for why youre so horrible youre going to hell youre going to hell youre going to hell and#then it just loops eternally and i cant get it to stop unless i do little things to make it stop like hitting my head or scratching or#pacing in tempo or tapping rhythms . Which yes i know sounds like ocd . you do not have to tell me . but i cant think abt how it sounds#similar to ocd bc then its starting again.#and even the like. posting abt it is hard bc my brains like seeee youre just making it up for attention why do you haaave to talk abt it#where ppl can see. its so you can convince other ppl and trick them into thinking you have ocd . but its just that i always post whatever#i think abt on here this thing is my diary and also if i dont let people know what im thinking all the time it means im hiding things and i#evil . so . this is how it is
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fmhobeus · 8 months ago
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jjk men and their red flags
a/n: i'm feeling problematic :> tell me what u think (agree/disagree/add more?) this is all for shits n giggles !! non sorcerer au kinda
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kento nanami — (over)protective
but like... to the point where it feels like he's treating you like a child! he doesnt like to see you sweat or even work at all for that matter. he loves it when you cook but has bought covers for all the knifes. if he sees a burn on your hand get ready for a 10 minute long lecture. if you accidentally fall he wont let you get up for atleast 3 days to help you ""heal."" it's almost like he doesnt trust you to take care of yourself :') he probably has like 3 separate first-aid kits everywhere.
suguru geto — emotionally unavailable
i feel like this is explainable to his character (sort of.) i dont think that he'd make you feel isolated at all, he's be an amazing listener and probably memorizes every word you say. he listens to you rant and even trauma dump with insane patience. but at some point it feels as though you hardly know him. he's talk to you a lot but very little of it is personal and you hardly know what he's thinking because his ass is not tell you. he also unintentionally distances himself from people from time to time. this applies to you too and you can feel him getting emotionally distant sometimes. it isnt something he does knowingly but it sure ass hell bothers you.
satoru gojo — very clingy and needy
this nigga. he is so utterly clingy. and at first it's perfectly fine, even appreciated by you. you still love him like crazy of course but it is just overwhelming. he is like a child most of the time, he need you around him and is always accompanying you wherever you go, and he expects you to do the same. he also doesn't believe in "me time" because why would you feel better when you're away from him: (? want to hang out with your friends? what do you need them for: (? he's right there. he is also physically incapable of listening but boy is he good at making up.
toji fushiguro — controlling
he is so controlling omfg. it's usually subtle but sometimes he will outright just say no to things he doesnt like, not caring if you like them. it gets to the point where he actually starts to change your personality. he is very caring and that's his justification for this typa stuff. it is usually harmless stuff but he gets paranoid often. he doesnt let you wear miniskirts out if you're not with him. he doesn't let you befriend people he thinks are into you. he barely lets you buy stuff on your own, he usually gifts you whatever it is youre into at that moment. borderline turned on by fear and you being dependent on him.
choso kamo — has no social life outside you
pretty self explanatory. he doesnt have many friends outside you and isn't interesting in making them either. total loser. so taking him out to events, he probably doesnt interact much and chooses to look at you the entire time, which annoys your friends. he answers their questions pretty bluntly. he's never down to have people over and lowkey hates when you are.
hiromi higuruma — workaholic
also self explanatory. he leaves early, comes home late. you barely see him on the weekdays. sometimes he goes as far as ignoring your calls when in between cases. he calls you periodically but has to have an alarm set to remind him. he loves you very very deeply but is just used to working non stop T_T
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criminalamnesia · 2 months ago
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Traitor part 8
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.
let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3
thank you again!
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after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.
it never ends, does it?
apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.
it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.
you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.
you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.
your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.
it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
“hello?” you say as you answer the call.
“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”
you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”
you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.
“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.
she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:
“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”
you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.
why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?
your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.
laswell is coming here to do damage control.
you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.
you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.
but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?
you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.
and when you start something, you see it through.
you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.
price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.
“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”
“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.
“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.
“whatever she told you—”
“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”
price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.
“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”
“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.
“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.
“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.
and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.
you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.
like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.
on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.
in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.
when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.
it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.
it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.
and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.
what they condemned you to.
what he condemned you to.
he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.
price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.
“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.
“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.
he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.
instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.
“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.
“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.
and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.
but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?
you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.
more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.
blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.
you would’ve thrown it away anyways.
you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.
his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.
you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.
“done?”
and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.
it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.
because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.
and yet he didn’t stop you.
“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.
he shrugs. “you needed it.”
he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.
“least I could do,” he says.
you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?
“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.
maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.
“no,” he says, and you know he means it.
he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.
he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”
that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.
and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.
“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.
the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.
“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.
“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.
“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”
you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.
“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.
he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”
“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”
you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.
“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.
“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”
you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”
his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.
those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.
you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.
their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.
“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”
you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”
finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”
you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”
none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.
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a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.
you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.
the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.
none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.
(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)
the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.
you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.
you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.
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you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.
“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”
you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.
you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.
you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.
you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.
nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.
your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.
how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?
you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.
the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.
a new beginning, you think.
you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.
the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.
eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.
who else knows you’re here?
perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.
you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.
its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.
a new beginning indeed.
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lovecrazedpup · 1 year ago
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woo
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alexiroflife · 3 months ago
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Hello! May I request an angsty toji fic where reader finds out she's pregnant (post megumi) and she knows toji doesn't want anymore children so she just kinda leaves with little to no explanation? Maybe just a small note saying things aren't working out. It's up to you if it will be a hurt/comfort. Idk you don't have to do this request I don't want to overload you! I seriously love your writing. The way you right the character just warms my heart. I especially love ur hiding an Injury fic it was SO SO SO GOOD. 🩶🤍🖤
“promise”
toji fushiguro x reader
Synopsis: see above
to sum it up: you think it’s better to run away than to be the one to get hurt
WC: 5,668
Warning(s): angst, suggestive themes, yelling, pregnancy, mentions of abortion
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You stare down at the plastic tube clutched in your trembling hands in awe, eyes blown with shocked grief as you peer closer to get a better look, as though those two bright pink lines could have been a trick of your vision.
Unfortunately, however, your vision remains just as crystal clear as it always has been. As you stand in your cramped apartment bathroom, illuminated by a flickering fluorescent gaze shining down from above, horror befalls you.
You’re pregnant.
You should have known sooner when you began feeling queasy every morning, taking trips to either your or Toji’s toilet to hurl out the contents of whatever swam inside your stomach. You always tried to be silent if Toji was around, for he slept like a dog that could not be woken even if a meteor struck earth, and you had been remarkably exhausted. You aren’t even sure if there is a word to describe how sluggish your entire mind and body had been feeling, but you wanted to rule out the very obvious answer to your problems before exploring it.
You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and every inch of your body you could feel the pulse, eyes blurry over the positive test. You’re conflicted. You don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, you would have been jumping for joy to learn that you are starting a new life with your boyfriend, to step into a new chapter of your lives and to provide his children with another sibling.
But hell, the celebration is far too naive and implausible to be had. The sage eyed man has told you time and time again that he does not wish to have anymore kids, that the ones he has are enough and he is not equipped financially or mentally to care for another brat. In honor of those wishes, you’re on the pill, and consequently, Toji has taken the opportunity to plow his load inside of you time after time after time.
And you really, truly should have known that with Toji’s uniquely abled body, what was meant to serve as a barrier and a means of contraception did not work.
You feel like throwing up. What would Toji say? What would he do? What are you supposed to do? Should you tell him, fill him in on what’s going on to risk rejection and abandonment, a nasty habit that Toji had to work to rid himself of when he met you? Would he even care? Would he listen?
You know Toji to be a very tough man, despite the softened interior he attempts to hide in others’ company that is only displayed for you and for his kids. If he has always been adamant about one thing, it’s been to never have kids again, to focus on where he fucked up before and to pour his attention into the little family he’s grown, the one that he has now.
His voice echoes through your head like the gong of a church bell striking upon the ear’s of a sinner.
“Hell, I already got my hands full tryna get Megumi through his teenage years. What the hell is another child gonna do for us?”
“That shit’s fuckin’ expensive. Not to mention, I’d have to baby proof the house again. That’s another expense.”
“If I was capable of givin’ you y’er own, I would, doll. But I ain’t cut out for it. You know that.”
You don’t even know why he would stress the matter so often. You suppose he’s caught the way your eyes linger on a mother tossing their giggling baby up and down into the air, innocent pools of joy beaming down at her each time it reaches the air and lands in her secure hold. Or maybe he’s seen the way you care so deeply for Toji’s kids as though they are your own, despite telling you when you first got involved with each other that he did not expect you to step into their lives in anyway - and yet, you have done that and more. You know how the kids must struggle each day with the trauma of losing their mother so early on, and you never wanted them to think that you were trying to step in as her replacement, but you love them so clearly, as much as you love the man who created them.
Which leads you to your next concern. How would the kids react?
It’s one thing for you, as their father’s girlfriend, to wander into their lives and help navigate them their teenage hood alongside the dark haired man, but to introduce an entire other child only leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
They may be crushed. They me turn to hate you, to despise how you have contaminated the life they have worked so hard to rebuild after numerous tragedies. And would Toji agree with them? Would he turn his nose up to you, that scowl of his melting over his harsh features as he shuns you just as he shunned every other woman who came after his wife and before you. Would he leave you? Would he kick you out of the world that has become your own because you failed to live up to your promise, though it technically isn’t your fault that you are pregnant now but it feels as though it is?
You can not stand the thought, of the man you love turning his once loving gaze stone upon the sight of you, of him pushing you further away, permanently, in the same manner that he tried to when he realized that he was falling in love with you, of watching Megumi and Tsumiki turn their backs to you as though the past four years of your lives had never happened, banning you from their acceptance forever more.
Tears well in your gaze, interfering with your vision. This can not be happening, you think to yourself, everything has been going so well, and now this? This is going to ruin your relationship with Toji for good. Even if you were not in a committed relationship with him, you assume that the idea of any woman getting impregnated by Toji would have been thrown away. You would be thrown away, just like all the others who gave Toji their bodies but not their hearts.
Not the way you have.
Your heart clenches thinking of just how much you love Toji and the kids, of how you would be willing to lay down your own life for the sake of them as Toji swears that he would for you all in return. Even so, despite the commitment to you that a man who swore never to be committed to accustomed, this would be going too far.
…You’re not even sure if he would love you anymore.
Now that you’re pregnant with his child, a child he never meant to have with you, you assume you will mean nothing to him any longer. In his eyes, you will simply become the slut that he took a chance on by a whim, carrying something he would never call his own. You believe the old Toji will resurface, the one who claimed not to care, the one who shoved women out of his bedroom before the sun rose in the sky, the one who often failed to remember to pick his kids up from school, the one who would no longer meet you at eye level but look down upon you, frown upon you for being so clumsy.
You know Toji is the one who did this, but this still feels like it is your doing. Like somehow, you trapped him and he now has no choice but to break free from the steel cage you have barred around him with your conception.
Your fingers clutch over the plastic, your eyes scrunching closed to release a fresh set of tears that cascade over your cheeks and onto the test. You can feel yourself mourning your relationship already, you can feel it slipping through your fingers, see it fading in the distance until it becomes nothing but a bittersweet memory that you can not determine as reality or a figment of your imagination any longer.
You tilt your head, bringing the test to your forehead as you think, grieve, cry. You mull over your options; you could hide this from Toji, get an abortion and never think of it again or you could tell Toji and lose him forever.
You open your bleary eyes, lashes decked with dewy tears, as another idea dawns upon you. You could leave, leave before Toji and the kids have a chance to leave you.
It’s a cruel thought, you think, especially abandoning those children without any proper explanation for them, but what else are you meant to do? You’d be doing them all a favor if anything by taking your leave without them having to be plagued by the knowledge of your unplanned pregnancy, of what they may view as a scheme to destroy their family in your new baby’s wake.
The thought kills you to even entertain. You had promised those kids that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d stay with them for as long as they allowed you… but this is different. This is not what any of you had in your cards, how you believed your futures to go. Toji wants simplicity at home while he works through chaos through his occupation. He wants security, warmth, safety for you, Megumi, Tsumiki, and no one else. He would never welcome another child. You believe he’d be caught dead before approving of your pregnancy.
And therefore, you know what you have to do.
After taking a few more tests to ensure that the readings are accurate, which they are, you pledge to walk away. You pledge to leave the only man you’ve ever truly loved, the strongest family you’ve known, and the slim possibility that despite Toji’s wishes, he may accept you.
But you don’t want to take that chance and risk the humiliation and unplanned heartbreak. You’d much rather take matters into your own hands, and plan the shattering of your soul yourself.
You don’t sleep all night, for you’re too busy drafting about twenty different letters to Toji. Crumpled loosleaf paper litters the floor beside your bed as you try to think of how to best write down everything you want to say. You go through pages and pages until you are finally satisfied with the result, and the next morning, you slip the envelope into his mail slot and prepare to pack your life away.
It is late Sunday morning when Toji rises from his slumber. The first thing he does is lean over the sheets and drape his arm toward his nightstand to read your daily good morning text - only he finds there isn’t one. With pinched brows, he takes his phone to unlock it and visit your contact. Nothing.
The time reads 12:35 pm. Normally, you’re up and at it or even banging down his door by then to wake him. Maybe you’re just sleeping in?
He goes to give your cell a call, but nothing. Not only that, but your phone is also on do not disturb mode. His gut immediately swells with the suspicion that something is wrong. The dark haired assassin supposes he’s going to pay you a visit this afternoon as soon as he checks on the kids to ensure that they are alright.
His bedroom door opens with a creak, and he calls out to the teens gruffly through a yawn. When they don’t respond, he’s truly growing concerned.
He rounds the corner to prepare to head for their rooms when he finds Tsumiki and Megumi at the dining table. His brows furrow, his pace slowing as he takes in their faces. Tsumiki’s lips are pressed together tightly and the muscles in her face are scrunched as though she is about to cry, while Megumi stares ahead with empty eyes and a hardened exterior.
Toji frowns with quirked brows, approaching his kids. “What’s wrong with you two?”
His brunette daughter looks up at him with glassy eyes and wrinkled chin, lashes fluttering while Megumi does not bother to look at his father. Instead, he brings Toji’s attention to a torn envelope and a thick packet of papers pressed beneath the sixteen year old’s palm. Wordlessly, Megumi slides it toward him, brows slanting.
Toji, perplexed, looks between the papers and his children’s troubled faces. What is this letter? Overdue taxes? An eviction notice? That can’t be possible, because you had ensured that Toji and the kids’ place was secure long ago.
He crunches the papers in his hands and picks them up to read. The first thing that catches his eye is your scribbling handwriting, and the following words that send his heart plummeting to his ass:
This isn’t working out.
Toji whips his head up, baffled, and when he meets Megumi’s gaze again, his eyes are ablaze with resentment.
“What the hell did you do?” he growls.
The green eyed man is not even thinking before he’s dialing Shiu’s number, asking him to watch the kids for the next hour or so, and running out of the apartment after throwing rather unconvincing words of assurance over his shoulder to his kids, who are still with disbelief - Tsumiki with devastation and Megumi with rage, for surely his father pushed you away.
Toji does not bother finding a ride, electing to run to your place which is only a few blocks away. You two were just discussing moving in with one another, combining households, and this is what you spring onto him? Not even for him to stumble across first, but his kids who look up to you and love you like their own mother?
Oh, he’s fuming, a rush of emotions taking over his mind as it fuels his speed. The letter you wrote is still crunched in his fist, whipping through the air as he makes his way to you.
Dear Toji,
This is not working out.
But before you rampage and get angry with me, please let me explain. Let me explain how much I love you, how much those kids mean to me, and how every day I wake up I want to be greeted by all of your smiling faces. For the rest of time, forever. You are undoubtedly the only man for me, and I truly believe that. I know you may think I’m bullshitting because of how the beginning of this letter contradicts what im saying now, but it’s true. I have never loved another person the way I love you, and while it scared me at first when you were so stubborn and full of anger that you misdirected onto me, I stayed and I waited and I helped you and I’ve loved you through every single moment, ever week, every month, and every year. You brought purpose back into my life, and I can picture you scoffing because you’d say the same, but I mean it. You, Tsumiki, and Megumi are the best things that have ever happened to me. I love you all so much.
But in this case, that love is not enough.
I hate to be doing this to you, to the kids, but I have no other choice. Things aren’t going the way they used to, and it’s not your fault but mine. I’m the reason. And it is tearing me apart to know that and simultaneously know what I have to do in order to keep you and the kids happy. Stable. I wish I could explain to you more why I am doing this, but I can’t. Not just because I am dying to picture you reading this, but because I truly can not say. I do not want to ruin you guys’ image of me. While I think that’s a selfish thing to say because who knows how me leaving is going to hurt you all, you would not understand even if you knew the reason behind this.
By the time you are done reading this, I will be gone. I’m going away because as long as I am not with you all, I can’t stay here anymore. I am staying with my mother while I get my travel plans arranged, because I know how you worry when you do not know where I am or if im safe. I should be gone by Friday.
Please do not come see me. I have made my decision, and you will only be hurting us more by trying to stop me. I won’t be stopped.
Kiss and hug and apologize to Megumi and Tsumiki for me. I hope you find someone who fills the role of their mother, someone who knows how Megumi likes to do his homework in the silence of his room with no music or anything, completely isolated so he can focus. Someone who knows how to fix Tsumiki’s eggs properly - to add extra butter to the sides when you fry them so the edges get crispier. Someone who won’t try to feed Gumi’a demidogs because he hates when people assume they can coddle up to them upon first introduction. Someone who cares for the wholly the way I do and always will.
And you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how angry you probably are at me right now, and I will miss that about you, but please do not let that interfere with the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the layers of grit, standoffishness, and indifference, you are a man with a big heart. For me. For your kids. For those you love and seek to protect.
You say you aren’t a good man, and while that may be true to you, you are an amazing partner and you’ve already become an amazing parent. I’ve seen you grow, and I am so in love with you and so proud of you. I know you’ll be okay without me. It maybe take some time, but you’ll adjust to what’s best. I promise.
With all the love that could possibly be harbored in this world, you are everything to me and that is why I have to go. I wish you every happiness this planet can offer you, and I know that without me, you can begin to find joy again.
Love,
Your doll
You had believed to time this perfectly, for you know that Toji usually does not wake until one, so soon as you are finishing up packing, you are trudging down the stairs to the leasing office to inform them that you will be moving.
You push open the door to the first floor, the breeze hitting you gently, and you round the corner only to be blocked by the last person you wanted to run into during this time.
Your eyes widen as you look up, the burly figure you have grown oh so familiar with over the years heaving as though enraged, ivy eyes crowding over slim pupils as Toji glares down at you, an image of indescribable fury.
Your heart drops and your words die in your throat. “T-Toji?” you whisper, horrified of an outburst. You are rattled by fear, having been so unprepared to walk into this. You did not put it past him to chase you down. But you figured that you’d be at your parents by the time he woke. Then, you could have at least told them to tell him off at the door.
But no. Instead, here he is, six feet and then some of bulking mass as he takes quick, deep breaths that expand the entirety of his chest.
You shift. “What are you doing here-“
“What the fuck is this?”
Toji swiftly, yet aggressively, lifts the papers in his hands, now damaged by his travels and his grip, shaking it firmly with the question. You gulp, lowering your eyes.
“Toji, I told you not to come…”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he swears firmly, and you jump, looking to see if anyone is around to hear you, as the two of you are standing outside your complex.
“We shouldn’t be- let’s just go inside,” you go to grab his arm, but he tears it away. He stares at you as though you have burned him, singed the heart in his chest from the inside out, and he is so unforgiving. So unforgiving before he hears directly from your mouth what this is about.
“I’m not doin’ shit until you tell me what the fuck this is, (Y/n),” he demands, his hand moving the papers about passionately with his speech, and you feel your heart hammering again. This is not how things were supposed to go. You are not supposed to be seeing him right now. “Cause I refuse- I fuckin’ refuse to believe that you’re breaking up with me.”
Your eyes gloss over as you look down at your feet, unsure of what to do or how to handle this confrontation. You can’t do this. You can’t, it’s too much. It’s too hard.
“…I am,” you mumble.
Toji steps forward, leaning down to get a peek of your face, his expression so angry that it worries you. “What?”
“I said… I am.”
“Uh uh, you better say that shit with your chest if you can write a whole damn letter about it,” he growls, fucking further as you continue to turn away. “Look at me,” he barks, and you cringe.
“Toji, don’t yell at me!” you shout back.
“What else do’ya want me to do, huh?” he throws his hands up. “How else do you expect me to react to this bullshit?! You’re leavin’ me? After everythin’ we been through, after everythin’ you and the kids’ve been through, you’re leavin? Are you fuckin’ serious?”
He takes a swift glance at the papers, the very sight sending him into a spiral, before he’s heatedly looking back down at you.
“I don’t buy this shit for one second. No. You’re not leavin’. Not in this world, or the next.”
“I am, Toji, the quicker you accept that, the easier it’ll be for everyone!”
“Easy?” he winces as though the prospect pains him. “You call this shit easy? You call up and tryin’ to abandon me easy? You call the kids waking up to your letter and reading it at the table before I saw it easy?”
Your face falls. “…what?”
“Yeah. You fuckin’ heard me,” he sneers. “Megumi and Tsumiki read this shit first. First thing in the morning, they see a letter about how the woman they love is leavin’ ‘em, just like their mom did, and for what?”
You close your eyes, his words stinging you as they cut through. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true, ain’t it? Y’er leavin’ us, (Y/n), and you didn’t even have the decency to say why!”
Guilt crowds you, like a blanket of darkness consuming you from overhead, and as Toji stands before you completely torn apart by your letter, you see the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the unspoken plea for you not to go.
You try your best to keep your composure as you turn away again. “I told you, I can’t tell you.”
“Fuck that,” he lifts the letter and tosses it to the ground with a thud. You gasp, watching it slam to the concrete pavement.
“Toji!” you exclaim.
“You think you can just leave without me comin’ to hunt you down and see your face so I can figure out what the hell is goin’ on? You must not know me at all.”
“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?!”
“Of all fuckin’ things, (Y/n), I think I got a right to be aggressive about this. You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye!” he tosses his arm out to the side with the exclamation, brows twisting and teeth bearing. “Is that what our relationship means t’ya? You think you can just toss us aside?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” you beg, a lump forming in your throat as the two of you stand face to face, arguing without a car about who will see you.
“Then tell me,” he shouts. “Cause you’re not givin’ me shit to go off of!”
“I told you already, I can’t,” your lips quiver.
“Then our relationship is nothing to you.”
“No, Toji.”
“Clearly it ain’t, cause I’d think it’d be worth an explanation if you’re runnin’ away!” you frown and shake your head, turning to walk back into the complex when Toji cuts you off, moving in your way. “You don’t think I know you? You don’t think I see it all over your face that somethin’s got you scared, and y’re takin’ off because of it? You think I don’t know what that looks like, (Y/n)? I did that shit. I did it all the damn time before I met you, and hell, I tried to run then but you wouldn’t let me, so what the hell makes you think I’m gonna let you now?”
“This is different,” you say shortly, afraid to reveal the tremble of your voice to the man before you. You keep your gaze down as you try to go around him again, but to no avail. He steps in your path. “Stop!”
“I ain’t stoppin’,” he says gravely, keeping his eyes to yours though you try to avoid contact with them. “Not until you spit it out. I’ll be damned if I got another broken home cause y’re fuckin’ scared.”
“I said stop!” you try to find some bass in your voice, but against your will, it falters when you yell. Toji eyes you carefully, reaching his hand out to grip your shoulder and steady you into place.
You scoff, attempting to pull away, but it’s no use. The dark haired man is everywhere, keeping you from walking away.
“You talk to me like the grown ass woman you are,” he tells you sternly, stepping in. “You use that voice I know you have, and don’t you ever let me catch you writin’ a letter to me about how you wanna break up instead of comin’ to talk to me. Y’understand?”
You exhale shakily, lips pressing together and brows curling. “I can’t.”
“Y’re still not tellin’ me why you think that.”
“Because I can’t, Toji. I can’t tell you. It’ll- it’ll fuck up everything!” you break, and Toji feels the pit in his stomach shift as he looks over your aggrieved expression, depicting the same exact things he feels.
“(Y/n),” he calls your name firmly, the sound of it on his tongue only inspiring the urge to cry more. You continue to shake your head though Toji isn’t exactly speaking, and his green eyes wander you with frustrated concern. “Y’scared of what I’ll do if you tell me?”
You freeze, slowly peeling your eyes to look at his, his face tense with grief. You stare at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish as all of your insecurities that talked you toward this ledge run through your mind once more.
“Don’t look surprised,” he says. “I know you like the back of my hand, and I know that you knew I’d be over here to stop ya.”
Your frown deepens, and this time as you look at him, you see every second of your future that you were quick to stomp dow. You see the unbridled, unfiltered love he holds for you as well as the blood curdling fear of letting you go.
“You have to understand,” you whimper. “I know how you’ll react, I- I can’t do this to you. You have to let me go.”
“What the hell could be so horrifyin’ in that head of yours to make you think that I won’t stick with ya through hell and high water?” he grits out, searching your swollen hues of (e/c) hesitation. “You’d do the same for me.”
“I know, but-“
“There’s nothin’ else to say. I ain’t leavin’ until you spill, and when you do, y’re comin’ with me.”
You look at him, pained. It’s a trap, you think. If Toji only knew, he’d be running for the hills instead of trying to track you down.
“Out with it, now.”
You can’t. You can’t tell him. He’ll leave you, he’ll reject you, he’ll turn you away, he’ll never let you see the kids again.
“(Y/n)!”
“I’m pregnant!”
The earth seems to freeze and time seems to slow. You scrunch your eyes, anticipating the worst to come as Toji takes in your words, his tensed expression melting slowly.
You don’t open your eyes to see his reaction. You keep your head ducked and your fists closed as the white noise of nature flutters into relevance. You’re trembling, terrified, and Toji can not move but instead proceeds to stare at you, stunned.
His words about not wanting any more kids run through your mind again as you await his response, and the suspense kills you as you do. You can feel his grip on your shoulder slacken before tightening again, and you are terrified.
He’s going to leave you.
You are quick to step away when the sentiment arises once more, Toji’s hand falling from you arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I know that you don’t want any more kids. I know, an I thought we were being careful, but- I took five tests. They’re all positive.”
“You’re pregnant?” he echoes, and you still. You knew it. You knew this would happen.
“I told you, Toji,” you exhale. “I told you that I couldn’t tell you, and now everything’s a mess.”
He twitches. “Hold on-“
“Don’t tell me all of a sudden you want kids,” you snap. “I know how strongly you feel about it.”
“So instead of talkin’ to me, you were gonna leave? Knocked up? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What other choice do I have?!” you cry. “You don’t want more kids, and if I kept it, it would only be a nuisance to you. And Megumi and Tsumiki?”
He scrunches his face. “What about ‘em?”
“How do you think they’d feel if the woman you’re dating after their mother died surprised them with a new baby? They’d be crushed!” you say shakily as salty tears well in your eyes again. “I can’t overstep your boundaries. I just can’t. It’s easier for me to go.”
“And do what, (Y/n)? Raise a kid on your own without any help?”
“I can’t bare you leaving me!” you suddenly confess, tear striking past your cheek.
Toji examines you and frowns. “What are y’talkin’ about? You’re tryin’ to leave me!”
“So I can prevent the inevitable from happening,” you huff. “I’m okay with it. I’ve made peace with everything. That’s why you need to just let me go-“
“After everythin’, you think I’d throw you away because you’re pregnant with my kid?” Toji says incredulously. You falter, for you had been so sure of his reaction before. “You think that low of me?”
“No, but I want you to have what you want.”
“What I want is you, you fuckin’ idiot,” he hisses. “All I ever wanted was you, and I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re tryin’ to take that away from me.”
You furrow your brows, confused. “…You’re not mad?”
“Girl, I’m livid,” he scowls. “Not about the damn kid, but because you assumed what I would say before comin’ to me.”
“Toji, you have to understand that I was trying to look out for you.”
“There’s not lookin’ out for me or those kids or makin’ them happy if you’re gone, (Y/n),” he bites. “Who th’fuck put that idea in your head?”
You stammer, tears proceeding to flow down your face as you reel in the reality of the situation. “I… I just thought-“
“I don’t wanna hear it.”
Before you can respond, his hand is gripping your wrist and he’s tugging you toward him into his chest. You shake when you fall into him, listening to the pace of his heart rapidly beating against your ear as he breaths quickly against you. Large palms smooth over your head and down to your waist as he holds you tightly, and you notice how desperate his grip is. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, as though you’ll fly away if his hold is not tight enough.
He tucks his head into your neck, fingers grasping into your shirt, and suddenly the animosity of the moment prior is gone. You’re still trembling, leading Toji to hold you tighter to him.
“Can’t believe you tried to leave,” he murmurs into your hair. “Christ, (Y/n) you’re tryin’ to gimme a heart attack. The fuck is goin’ on with you.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, looking off sadly. “I thought you’d be upset about it. I didn’t want you to know.”
“I should know about any and every single thing that’s goin’ on with you, y’hear me? This ain’t no exception.”
A weight flutters from your shoulders as you sink into Toji’s head, silent tears streaming for the life you almost sacrificed. “What are we gonna do?”
“I dunno,” he mumbles. “But we’ll figure it out. As a team. Alright?”
You nod meekly. “Okay.”
He groans, pressing himself impossibly further to you. “That letter… fuck, don’t do that shit. Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that. Without you, I ain’t shit- pregnant or not. And those kids would adore another sibling if you were bringing it into this world. Don’t say that shit about them again either. They need ya. We need ya.”
“I’m sorry,” you whine again, Toji’s hand stroking over your back soothingly.
“It’s okay,” he grumbles. “We’ll figure it out.”
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solelifauna · 16 days ago
Text
Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 4
Unemployment was not on your bucket list.
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The rest of your shift dragged on, each minute weighed down by the persistent presence of Dick, Cass, and Damian. They loitered, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. It was unnerving, knowing they were there—observing, calculating. You tried your best to ignore them, focusing on the customers and getting through the shift, but their eyes on you were impossible to shake.
Eventually, you glance at the clock. Your shift is finally coming to an end. A wave of relief washes over you. Soon, you’ll be out of here. You’ve been expecting a call from Alfred any minute now, either letting you know he’s “on the way” or already outside waiting for you. You clutch onto that thought, hoping for a quick getaway.
But that’s when you feel it, a firm hand on your shoulder. You flinch, startled, and whirl around to find Cassandra standing right behind you, her eyes sharp and her smile almost unsettling in its warmth.
“Y/N,” she said softly, her tone gentle but somehow–wrong.
“Can I–um–help you?” you ask, your voice betraying your unease. Cass is just as overtly intimidating as the others, if not more so. You know who trained her, you know what she's done, what she's capable of.
“We’ll take you home,” she says simply, the statement hanging in the air like an unbreakable decree.
You blink, not sure if you’ve heard her right. “What? I—Alfred’s picking me up,” you stammer, trying to figure out why the hell they’d want to take you home instead.
Cass’s smile doesn’t falter. “Change of plans.”
You glance past her toward the table where Dick and Damian are waiting. They’re already standing, Dick’s usual smirk plastered on his face, while Damian looks like he’s already irritated by the mere suggestion of you being in the same car as him.
“Uh..” You contemplate walking home, imagining the quiet and cool Gotham air being far more appealing than sharing a car with these three. Maybe it’s not that far to walk? Maybe you’ll survive the trip on foot? But you know better than to argue with them—not when Dick is involved.
With a resigned sigh, you nod. “Okay,  I guess. I still need to get my bike though.”
Cassandra hums in approval.
The walk to the car was stifling. Dick led the way, his usual playful grin in place, but there was an intensity behind it that made your skin crawl. Damian followed closely, his silence more oppressive than any words he could’ve said. When you reached the sleek black car, one of Bruce’s more extravagant vehicles, your hesitation grew, but there was no turning back now.
As you slip into the backseat, you find yourself next to Damian, who's already glaring out the window like you’re the most offensive thing in the car, and the leather seat that smells faintly of expensive cologne. Cass takes the passenger seat, her calm demeanor oddly comforting despite the situation, while Dick slides into the driver’s seat.
The car hums to life, and soon enough, you’re speeding through the streets of Gotham. The tension inside the vehicle is thick, almost unbearable. You stare out your window, watching the city blur by, trying your best to disappear into the seat.
“Y/N,” Dick’s voice broke the silence, far too casual for the tension in the car. “You didn’t tell us you were working at that cafe.”
You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say much. “Didn't think I needed to? Why does it matter?”
Dick’s eyes flicked to you in the mirror, a glint of something dark behind his seemingly easy going demeanor. “It seems as though there's a lot of things you haven't told us (Y/n), hmm?”
He just completely ignored your question, and like an idiot, you dignify his question with your own response.
“I don't know why you in particular care, considering you haven't bothered to in the past four years.” You remark, crossing your arms. 
Dicks smile only widened as he cooed at your response. “Oh I don't care (Y/n), but you can't just do whatever you want, right? Your last name’s still Wayne last time I checked, do you know what that means?”
His eyes flicker to you, staring at you through the rear view mirror. You just shrug nervously, you had no idea where he was going with this.
“It means you’re not allowed to just fuck off and do whatever you want. What happens when you’re working and a rouge or random criminal recognizes you? It’ll be our job to drag you back.” He says smiling all the while. Dick doesn't really curse, not like this anyways, and it's starting to scare you. 
There was something sinister beneath his seemingly friendly demeanor. The way he was talking about you, it made you feel more like a possession than a person. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, eyes flicking to Damian and Cassandra. None of them seemed to be fazed by Dick's words. It was like they all understood something you didn't.
"Look," you muttered, "I just needed the job, okay? I didn’t think it was a big deal."
He just nods, “Which is why you'll be putting in your two week’s notice.”
Hold the phone.
“I'm sorry what?”
“I'm sure I spoke clearly, didn't i?”
“I'm–I'm not quitting my job.”
“Yes you are. In fact, you're going to call your boss and let them know right now.”
“You’re fucking crazy if you thin–”
“I'm not asking (Y/n).” He says, a certain edge to his voice. “Call your boss.”
You’re scared. You don't know why he’s doing this. Shaking, you pull out your phone, staring at the screen as if it could somehow save you from this situation. You know they won’t let you get out of this. Not with the way Dick’s smile is hovering on the edge of something dangerous, not with Damian’s silent approval and Cassandra’s eerie calm. The power dynamic is suffocating—this isn’t a request; it’s an order.
“Call,” Dick says again, his voice now a warning.
You swallow hard, your fingers trembling as you scroll to your boss’s number. You want to refuse, you want to stand your ground, but the fear of what would happen if you did keeps your rebellion at bay. You press the call button, and the phone rings in your ear.
“Hello?” your boss answers, their voice friendly and unsuspecting.
“Hey Daniel, it’s Y/N,” you say, your voice shaking. “I—I’m sorry, but I have to put in my two weeks’ notice. I—uh, I can’t work here anymore.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “What? Y/N, is everything okay?”
No. “Yeah, it’s fine,” you lie. “I just… something came up, and I can’t keep the job.”
Your boss hesitates, clearly concerned. “Are you sure? If this is about needing time off, we can work something out—”
“No, I’m sure,” you cut them off, glancing at the rearview mirror, where Dick’s eyes are still watching you with that unsettling intensity. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”
You hang up before they can ask more questions. There’s a sick feeling in your stomach, like you’ve just lost something.
Dick hums in approval. “Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You don’t respond. You’re too numb, too angry to even find the words to fight back. The rest of the car ride is silent. When you finally arrive back at the manor, you slip out of the car without a word, making a beeline for your room. You can hear them behind you, talking quietly amongst themselves, but you don’t care. You just need to be alone.
The worst part was, you didn't even get to go back for your bike. Gotham wasn't exactly known for its secure parking spaces, especially for a bike left unattended for hours. By now, it was probably stolen or stripped for parts. Another loss to add to the growing list.
You collapsed onto your bed after a long, hot shower, letting the steam wash away the dried coffee and lingering bitterness of the day. The frustration and humiliation clung to you, but you tried to push it all aside as you buried yourself in mundane distractions. Homework? Done, though half-heartedly. Your phone? A welcome relief, a way to escape the reality of what your life had become.
The phone call with your friends was a lifeline. You started by relaying the bizarre events of your day—Dick showing up at your workplace, forcing you to quit, the awful encounter with the Karen who’d thrown coffee in your face. Arya and Ethan were outraged on your behalf, their voices rising with indignation as they expressed disbelief at how ridiculous your life had become.
“What is wrong with him?” Arya had exclaimed after you explained how Dick had basically forced you to quit. “It’s like he gets off on controlling you.”
Ethan chimed in, his voice laced with sarcasm. “It’s the Wayne family, what do you expect? They think the world revolves around them.”
The conversation shifted to lighter topics eventually, giving you a break from the heavy reality of your situation. Arya’s excitement over the girl she liked responding to her Instagram story was a welcome distraction. She went on a rant about how this girl was clearly the one, and you and Ethan couldn’t help but exchange amused glances over the phone. Arya’s giddiness was infectious, and soon the three of you were laughing—deep, real laughter that made you momentarily forget about everything.
But, as with all good things, the fun came to an end with a knock at your door. You sighed heavily, already knowing what was coming.
"Master (Y/n), it’s time for dinner."
The familiar voice of Alfred carried through the door, his polite yet firm tone unmistakable. You groaned, dragging yourself off the bed with all the enthusiasm of someone heading toward their own execution. Dinner meant facing Dick, and after the day you'd had, that was the last thing you wanted to deal with.
You swung open the door, forcing a smile for Alfred, though you knew he could see right through it. "Hey Alfie, how was today?"
Alfred smiled, ever the picture of calm. "All good in a day's work, Master (Y/n). Might I inquire how work today was?"
You couldn’t help but grimace at the mention of work. "It... it was alright," you said, though the weight of your words made it clear that was a lie. Alfred’s raised brow told you he wasn’t fooled.
"Well," you sighed, the reality sinking in further as you spoke, "it doesn’t matter anymore anyways. I quit today."
Alfred’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "But my dear, I thought you adored working there? Whatever did happen?"
You couldn’t hold back the bitterness in your voice as you answered, "Dick."
Alfred’s eyes softened with understanding, and the sympathy in his gaze was almost too much to bear. "Ah, I see. I’m sorry you’ve had to do so," he said, and you could tell he genuinely meant it.
"It’s not your fault, Alfie," you replied, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging him into your mess. "Which is why I wanted to ask if I could have dinner in my room today? I don’t think I’ll be able to stay civil with Dick sitting there."
Alfred gave you a sad smile, one that only deepened the dread in your chest. "Usually, it would be more than allowed," he began, his voice gentle, "however, today your father has requested that you attend dinner no matter what."
Your heart sank. "What?"
"Yes," Alfred said with a hint of regret in his voice. "Unfortunately, you don’t have much of a choice today, my dear."
You stared at Alfred, dumbstruck. Since when did Bruce care whether or not you were at dinner? He barely acknowledged your presence most of the time, and now suddenly it was a demand?
Alfred gave you one last apologetic look before he turned to leave, his footsteps fading down the hall. You stood frozen in place, disbelief washing over you.
What the actual fuck is happening?
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