#i couldn't write properly for like a year and a half or two

[parfaitblogs]

you're losing me ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he's an entirely different person after prison, and your relationship is crumbling. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: post prison reid. no happy ending. argument/fight. strong language. word count: 2.0k a/n: big fan of soul crushing angst. clearly. i dreamt this one up in an everything shower. likely place for me to plan fics? whole lot of nothing happening i love yapping about sadness!! my least favourite spencer trait is that he doesn't think he deserves good things so he pushes them away so obviously i have to write novellas on him doing just that? this used to be based on tolerate it but i listened to ylm the entire time so erm. things change! lol enjoy xoxo

Perhaps you were stupid. 

Very, very stupid. And ridiculous. And every other synonym for those two words that your brain could not possibly imagine up right now. You were all of them. But also none of them. Because you also felt like there was not a single word that could describe you anymore; if there was, maybe you'd consider yourself a person. But clearly you weren't a person. Not anymore, at least. Not to him. 

An awfully painful year it had been. And maybe that's what stripped you of your right to be a person. Maybe it was the overtime. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was everything all at once. Maybe it was nothing at all. 

Three years of dating one man meant you learned quite a bit about who he is as a person to you. Eight years of knowing him meant you knew very well what sort of person he is in general. 

And this wasn't him. 

He was sitting on your couch. A piece of furniture that had, in just one year, erased the memory of you from it, there no longer being an indent on the right side where you always sat. A book was sat in his lap, but he wasn't properly reading it. You could tell from how slowly he turned the pages. From how he stopped every few minutes to rub his eyes, his eyebrows creasing and a quiet, irritated huff leaving his lips. 

It was a habit he had developed. 

This was how it was every night. Three o'clock came, and your body would wake you up from an otherwise restless sleep, and you would drag your feet out to where the man who should be occupying the other side of your bed, actually is. And he wouldn't look up, but you both acknowledged each other's presence, silently. 

And you would watch him for an hour. Until your eyes began to droop, and your feet started to ache, and your heart couldn't handle any more shattering for the night. And then you would drag yourself back to the bedroom, and you would climb into a now cold bed, and you would fall back asleep for another two hours. 

Like clockwork.

You were good with him. So patient. You would make him mugs of morning coffee that he wouldn't drink, and you would wash clothes he wouldn't say 'thank you' for. You wondered if he was actually grateful or not. 

You were too scared to ask. 

"Hey," you said, quietly, when he had come home from work, shrugging his bag off his shoulders, and slipping shoes off his feet. 

"Hi," he answered. As if on instinct, he moved to where you were seated at the barstool to kiss you in greeting, before brushing past and heading into the kitchen. 

You watched him for a few moments as he found a piece of bread to eat, nothing on it. Just... dry. Before your eyes returned to the laptop screen you had open in front of you, fingers tapping away at your keyboard. 

"There's been another terror threat," you said to him, tilting your head to the side. "But they let me work from home."

"Why'd they do that?" he asked, but he could not sound less interested. 

You lifted your head, because you thought he knew. "Because of you, Spence."

"Oh, okay," he answered, and you watched as he threw out half of the bread he did not eat, before he disappeared down the hallway. 

He didn't even care. 

You stared at the empty space down the hall, where he had once been, heart lodged in your throat in an uncomfortable lump you couldn't swallow. This was why you felt stupid. 

Maybe you were sick of feeling stupid. You must be, because subconsciously, your feet had already planted themselves firmly on the floor, and your legs were already taking you down the hall in the exact direction he had just disappeared to. 

He was taking his button up off when you appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, replacing it with a t-shirt. You had never seen him wear so many t-shirts until now. 

You cleared your throat, alerting him of your presence, and he turned, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw you. 

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you said, voice wavering with cautiousness. 

His lips parted, then they closed, and all he managed was a short nod, before he turned back around to find pyjama pants in his drawers. 

"Spencer, I'm serious," you pressed, taking a step into the room. "You need to talk to someone about this."

"I have those counseling sessions at work," he answered, turning back around to face you only once he was wearing pants. 

Your lips pursed. "You hate those."

"Yes, but I'm talking to someone."

"Not someone you trust!"

"And if I talk to you, it would be so different compared to a counsellor, right?"

You froze. He froze. Maybe he realised the implication of his words, you certainly did. That such a simple spoken sentence had your heart stuttering in your chest. 

You shakily exhaled. "I'd hope it would be different," you decided to say. "But I wouldn't be surprised if it isn't anymore."

He stood straighter at your comment. Perhaps not the best thing to say. Certainly not the most mature. 

"What does that mean?"

Right. The reason you decided to follow him in the first place. "I just—I don't feel like you care anymore. And I have tried to be patient, Spencer. I really have. But you shut me out, and we don't even talk anymore. I make you coffee, I do your laundry, I offer to cook, I clean up the house, I do everything I possibly can so you can focus on healing, and I can't even get a proper sentence out of you unless we're arguing."

He inhaled sharply, staring at you. "I don't know if you forgot, but I was locked in a prison for three and a half months."

Your shoulders deflated, your eyebrows creasing and lips pulling down into a frown. "Seriously? I express that I am feeling neglected, and your only response is that you've been in prison—"

"—Well, it kind of changed who I am!"

You fell silent for a few moments, trying to collect your thoughts before you threw them all in his face and actually ruined things between you two. 

"I just feel like you don't care anymore," you repeated, voice awfully soft compared to how hard your body was shaking in anxiety. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and he opened his mouth to speak with that same frustrated frown, so you cut him off. 

"And yes, I know you're dealing with everything that happened to you in prison. I only know what they told us, so I can't even imagine how much you're withholding. Because I know that's what you do. But that doesn't give you an excuse to treat me like I'm not important in your life anymore. I mean, If I'm not, then tell me. If you really don't care, or you've decided that you can't be in a relationship and process everything at the same time, then I'd like to know."

The silence is uncomfortable. And thick. And you're staring at him with eyes that burned with tears you weren't ready to shed yet. He's coming up with a response, so slowly you think maybe prison actually did break his brain. 

"I do care," he finally said, and you wondered if it took him three minutes to come up with that because he was controlling a lie. You pushed that thought out of your head. "But I also don't want you to wait for me to be better, if it's making you feel this way."

Oh.

"Okay," you manage to say, voice not above a whisper as you stared at him. 

"Okay," he echoed, and the tears you were trying so hard to keep in brimmed your waterline, blurring your vision. If he hadn't become one big blob in your vision because of them, you might've seen his eyes soften and his shoulders deflate. 

Maybe he was waiting for you to confront him about it all. So he could end things. Maybe he's been thinking about this for too long, and this was just the final push he needed. You'd like to hope it was a spur of the moment decision, and he wasn't banking on this relationship ending. 

"I'll stay at a friend's," you then murmured, wiping the tears from your eyes, sniffling pathetically. 

"No, this is—"

"—You deserve familiar walls," you cut him off. "I'm sure anything else would freak you out."

He fell silent, because you were right. But he didn't want to kick you out of your own home. He didn't want to kick you out of his life, a sickening revelation he was having all too late.

Maybe that was why, when you turned around to leave, he called your name. Pleadingly. So, you turned back, and he stared at you, and silence fell over you two again. 

"What?" you breathed out after a few too many minutes of quiet. 

"I don't know how to talk to you. Or anyone. Not—not just you."

"About what happened?"

"In general."

You stilled, confusion sweeping across your features, for the thousandth time tonight alone. "You don't have to talk to me, if you can't. Regularly, I mean. That's not... that's not what I'm asking of you. I just need you to communicate with me. I feel like you don't even have feelings for me anymore. That's where most of my issues lie."

"I do have feelings for you."

"It doesn't feel that way."

More silence. More thick, deafening silence that felt like you had submerged your head underwater. And you really just wanted to come to a final conclusion. If this was the end.

"Then is it just that you don't want to be with me anymore? If it is, please tell me," you said, voice pathetically desperate.

He stared at you some more. Silence accompanying him, like some (annoyingly) comforting best friend amidst this conversation. And you slowly nodded your head as what he wanted became clear to you, your heart stuttering uncomfortably in your chest. Your stomach flipping. 

"Indecision doesn't look good on you," you finally cut through the blanket of quiet. "I need a verbal answer, Spencer."

"I do want to be with you—"

"—Then fight, dammit!" you finally snapped, the tears you had managed to control coming back to you, a sob lodging in your throat. "I am sick of you saying you do feel this, and you don't feel that. Make a fucking decision. Please. I cannot keep up a fight for the both of us anymore. You're losing me here, Spencer."

"I'm scared!" he shouted, and you took a step back, his voice vibrating throughout the room. He waged an internal battle for a few moments at your recoil. "That. That right there is what I'm scared of. I am so scared of scaring you."

"You scare me more when you shut down. I will take your anger over your silence."

"I won't," he snapped, watching you flinch. Again. You wanted to stop flinching. 

"It proves to me that you're actually feeling things. Spencer, I feel like I've been living with a ghost."

"I can't control my anger anymore," he added your name with a voice crack, mirroring your heart.

You blink some more tears down your cheeks. "You don't have to. You are allowed to be angry."

"Not around you," he shook his head, his hands brushing curls out of his face. "What if I—I hurt you."

"What if you don't?"

It seemed he hadn't considered that possibility, because he fell silent, and averted his gaze to the ground. He shook his head after a beat. "I can't take that risk."

You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing up your options, before you sighed. "Fine. Don't." He said your name again. "No. If you're not willing to fight, then... then fine. Don't fight. But neither will I."

He didn't say anything as you took a step back from the room. And even as you stilled for a few seconds longer, achingly but silently begging him to ask you to stay, he didn't utter a word. Which was, really, all you needed in confirmation. 

And so you left.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[yanderes-galore]

I gots more, can you do Yuji (and/or Gojo) with a darling from the real world? Or like he’s self aware?

My favorite way to write self-aware show characters is to write an entity that acts just like them. Similar to an Analog Horror I've seen (Forgot the name but if you want it, I can hunt it down) So for this, that's kinda the plot I'm working with if that's okay. So like... a Creepypasta-like thing if that's fine.

So, the plot is similar to something I've done in the past for both: You buy a DVD of JJK... but something isn't quite right as you soon learn. No plot spoilers here for JJK. Purely an AU.

Feedback is appreciated as long as it's constructive! I could probably do this with other characters if I was given ideas. Both ideas start the same but begin to differ later.

Yandere Self-Aware! Yuji Itadori + Satoru Gojo

(Analog AU - An Experimental Name?)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, "Self-Aware" yandere, Analog AU (?), Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Unrequited feelings, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his resolve and ability to find happiness despite his situation that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought off online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Yuji Itadori, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Yuji Itadori" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Yuji originally believed everything was real.

This was his life... until he felt your presence.

At first he's in denial, not liking the idea of being trapped somewhere.

But then he sees you.

You are someone he can't reach, someone beyond a screen he can only look at.

While you watch the events of JJK play out on your little DVD, Yuji watches you.

It's a bit ironic, until he grows strong enough and more aware, the show character watches you just as invested as you are.

Yuji can't help but fall into a delusional sense of love and care for you.

He can't help but be excited whenever he catches glimpses of you.

His obsession is vague, as he is just now learning about his love for you.

He feels he wants to protect you, yet expresses frustration when he can only watch you from a clear barrier.

You can pick up on his self-aware behavior, things like glances, waves, and times where he says your name when other characters aren't looking.

The change is slow for him, but quick for you.

His feelings and growth continues through the episodes, the time feeling like months or years for him but hours for you.

Half way through the show you notice Yuji's behavior.

You're frightened at first, but maybe a morbid curiosity fills you?

This begins with you two properly communicating.

Certain plot points are paused or lengthened all so Yuji can speak with you.

It's so strange... like you're actually speaking to a human being.

Yuji is always very affectionate when speaking with you.

Often calling you nicknames, asking questions, and providing comfort after long days.

You see him as your little digital companion, while Yuji sees you as a lot more than that.

He's the only one aware of you, the other characters seem more like puppets to Yuji so he can play a story for you.

He likes seeing you happy and does whatever he can to make you smile.

Darker behavior manifests later as Yuji begins to realize he... isn't a big part of your life.

Through the screen he can see you have friends, family, everything.

You're the biggest part of his world, but he's the smallest part of yours.

As this DVD has supernatural capabilities (clearly), perhaps Yuji would pull you into his world once he fears he can lose you.

The next time you get to watch JJK, Yuji greets you.

"Hey! I've been preparing a surprise for you..."

Curious, you go to ask what it is...

Only to pass out.

By the time you wake up, you're not in your world anymore.

You wake up in a dorm, clearly not your room.

As you wake up, you jump back when you see Yuji kneeling beside you.

"Great! It did work!" He chirps happily, eyes closed with a smile on his face.

You go to ask what happened, only for Yuji to hold your hands.

"I brought you to my world! You mean a lot to me... plus, here I can shape this world to anything you want."

Yuji pulls you closer, closer to the point you can see a red glint in his eyes.

"I love you... and I just want to make you happy." Yuji vows, the confession innocent despite the situation.

"We'll make this our own little world."

"I want to go home!" You cry, confusing Yuji.

"Why would you ever want to leave...?"

Yuji asks, pulling you close.

"You'll be so happy here..." Yuji murmurs, eyes giving off a dull red glow.

"You won't ever want to leave... you won't ever leave me again."

From that point on, you live in an artificial world.

You and Yuji are the only ones "real" here.

Now he's the most important thing in your life, just like you are to him.

Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his playful/cocky attitude and perhaps even his looks that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Satoru Gojo, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Satoru Gojo" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Due to how Gojo is, he'll probably learn that his world isn't real faster than Yuji.

He'll learn that things aren't as they seem, that those around him are merely puppets for him to use.

At first he's a bit hurt... yet now he's curious.

He only gets more intrigued when he learns of your presence.

While you watch him through the screen, he watches you.

You always look so happy when he plays his part on screen, playing his role through the events of his world.

Gojo still plays along, even as he grows increasingly obsessive about you.

He just knows you two are different.

It only annoys him when he's kept from you by a clear barrier, looking at you through your TV or monitor as you watch him.

He's strong... but not strong enough to have you, it seems.

To him, it feels like his obsession has gone on for years.

For you? It feels like hours.

You're just happy to watch one of your favorite shows...

Completely unaware of your favorite character fantasizing about finally meeting you.

That is until Gojo decides enough is enough... and makes his presence known.

"Oi! Can you hear me?"

He makes contact with you by pausing events in the story and waving to the screen.

Maybe similar to the Yuji portion you're overcome with morbid curiosity more than fear.

Which leads to you feeding into Gojo's obsession by speaking with him.

Due to having his world under his control, Gojo's capable of pausing or slowing down events in the story to speak with you.

He alters things to entertain you and often speaks to you.

You end up spending more time speaking to him than watching the show normally.

You learn that Gojo is very playful with you.

He often waves, makes heart shapes with his hands, and winks at you.

He likes to say your name to mess with you and does his best to press himself closer to the screen so you can touch it.

It disturbs you that the screen is often... warm when he touches it.

Gojo's usually always playful with you until he begins to realize the truth.

He loves you, more than anything he loves you.

His little world would feel lonely without you.

His whole purpose is to entertain you, to make a good story for you and keep you company.

He lives for you.

Yet he notices you have others around you...

You have friends, family, perhaps even a lover.

He's only a little part of your life... and it upsets him greatly.

Gojo tries to hide his hurt from you as he watches you chat with others.

He wants nothing more than to have you all to himself in this little world of his...

When he grows stronger... he can.

It's ironic for Gojo to need to be "stronger".

In his world, he's the strongest.

Yet he takes time to grow more in order to have you.

He won't have to worry about your lover or anyone afterwards.

"I have something to show you~!"

His voice is in a purr when you go to speak with him again.

"Here's my gift... you know I just want to make you happy..."

You begin to feel woozy, slumping over.

"You know I just want to make you mine."

By the time you wake up, you're in a room you don't recognize.

Only for Gojo to show up with a grin.

"Yo!" He chirps, ignoring the fear in your eyes. "I did pretty good, right? You're in my world now... but I can change anything I want to make it the best for you."

He's so giddy about having you beside him.

In here, he doesn't have to worry about those close to you.

He has everything under control... and you in his arms.

"What's with the look? Come on, where's my hug?" He pouts, pulling you against him even if you struggle.

"You'll get used to it..." Gojo whispers, a kiss placed on your forehead.

"I exist to please you..." Gojo whispers, kissing your cheek.

"This is our world now... I'll never let you leave me now that I've got you."

[reallyromealone]

Bakugo x kirishima omegaverse adoption. Request is meeting bakugos parents or just his dad per se. like his dad really wants to meet his grandbaby and he doesn’t care about what his wife says because he’s going to meet his grandbaby wether she likes it or not.

Title: see you again

Fandom: bnha

Characters: bakugo, masaru, mitsuki, kirishima, Aizawa mentioned

Fic type: angst, fluff

Pairings: bakugo x Kirishima, masaru x mitsuki

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, child male reader, Omega male reader, alpha x alpha relationship, dad kiribaku

Notes: writing this before my shift

Summary: katsukis dad gets to meet the baby, mitsuki has an epiphany

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bakugo read the letter his dad sent, the Omega was absolutely thrilled with the pictures of the baby that Aizawa sent him, Aizawa knew how hard it was to get out of a marriage as an Omega and kept the man up to date via coffee meet ups.

And today, Mr. Bakugo was going to meet his grandson.

"I can't face him." Mitsuki whispered, the Alpha looking away from her Omega "well I am, I'm tired of you're tantrums! You made me lose out on my pups most important years! I had to miss his graduation!"

Masaru looked so broken "I let you walk over me... I love you but you need therapy... I-I can't do this"

"I-im sorry" it was rare to see the blond so meek "think about the fact, you missed your son's wedding, his son and his life because you were set in his ways" his words trembling "I know you love our son... Talk to him"

And with that the Omega left the house.

Katsuki felt his heart feel a bit warmer when he saw his dam, (name) sitting in kirishimas knee and playing with his fingers happily and suckling on his pacifier that looked like a little explosion "dad..." Katsuki stood up to properly greet his dam, having not seen him in a year and a half, only exchanging letters through Aizawa. "There's my precious little boy and my other precious boy... And whose this" immediately the soft man doted on the two before his eyes landed on (name) who leaned against his dad, staring at the Omega confused. Masaru got closer to the pup and crouched "hi... I'm your grandpa" he whispered and (name) reached out to him, the little baby having no loyalty when it comes to attention and the older Omega smelt like his papa so therefore safe in the little ones eyes.

"Gosh, he's so perfect" he whispered while holding the angel of a baby close "poepoepoe" the boy babbled, having taken his pacifier out of his mouth.

Katsuki felt pure happiness bubble in his chest, seeing his dad show the love he showed Katsuki when he was little "you are so brave!" The Brunet whispered to the baby, enamoured by the pure joy the little omega gave back at the attention and tickles his grandpa gave.

"So how's things dad..." Katsuki was surprisingly soft with his dad, knowing the omega was always the nervous type "it's better... Your mother and I actually spoken before I left today"

"Oh?"

"And I won"

The table grew quiet and Kirishima was the first to speak "I'm proud of you!"

X

She couldn't believe it.

Her mate.

Her omega.

Her life...

He just lost it on her, she really fucked this up, huh?

She sat alone in the sitting area for hours, tears rolling down her face.

She had a grand baby...

She remembered how happy she was when she held little Katsuki...

She didn't want to ever say goodbye to that memory.

She couldn't dare possibly say goodbye to the music in her life, the music being the love of her family.

She needed to get it together.

Looking around the house, a nice house with beautiful decorations...

She would give it all up if she could take what she said back.

But she knew it wouldn't be easy.

X

"Her pride-- it was always something that got in the way, I know she regrets what she did... God knows when she will admit her faults" masaru said calmly and handed (name) back to Katsuki when the boy reached over to the blond for cuddle time "i-I don't think I could forgive her for what she did" Katsuki said honestly, time did his temper well.

And after having a son, a wonderful beautiful baby boy.

He couldn't imagine doing something like that to his baby.

What parent could do that?

The rest of the lunch went smoothly, Masaru doting on his son and son and law while (name) slept in his stroller without a care.

It was late, Eijiro sleeping beside him and (name) was asleep in his crib across the hall and thoughts of the meeting pushed around katsukis brain.

His mom abandoned him.

Come morning, the two alphas did their morning stretches in the livingroom, (name) clumsily following along much to the parents amusement and delight "good form!" Eijiro cheered to the boys delight.

Katsuki focused on his son, his world.

His mom could wait.

Just like he waited for her.

[preppyacademy]

From a meaningless virtual life to the preppy boy I am now

Elliot's story

To convince you to come to the Preppy Academy, here's Elliot's personal testimonial. His life has changed radically thanks to our school's methods. The following are his words: 

Hello, my name is Elliot, I'm 20. I'm a student at the Preppy Academy. I'd like to thank M.Gilliard, our principal, who has asked me to write an account of my time here. 

Two years ago, I was still living with my father. I often dressed in sportswear; I loved Adidas clothes, so comfortable and easy to put on. Did I do any sport? No, not at all, but my mates dressed the same, so I followed suit. When I wasn't at school, I used to play video games all the time. I wore my clothes for days on end because I was too lazy to change. My bedroom was a real dump, with everything strewn all over the place. My diet consisted of eating chips and drinking sodas. 

My father was fed up with my bad behavior. He works in business, economics, something like that. My mother left us when I was a kid, and since then it's just been me and him. He'd tell me to “tidy my room”, “get dressed properly”. But I didn't give a damn, soon, I thought, I'll be able to leave soon, and I thought I'd be able to live with a friend in a flat-share for a bit of fun. 

There was a week when I made a decision that I had regretted at the time but that now makes me what I am. That week, it was at the beginning of my school year and I was playing a game that was too epic and I wanted to do it too much, so I made my dad think I was going to high school while I was pretending. Then, when he left for work, I'd come back and play on my P.S. console. But my stupidity caught up with me, and my father was contacted by the school and told of my repeated absences. It was a Thursday lunchtime, I remember, and he came home to find me quietly in bed. He came into my dirty room and said: 

" Elliot, that's enough! You're not going to school anymore, you're dressing like crap. Look at you, you've got holes in your clothes. You haven't washed or combed your hair in days. Things are going to change for you. A colleague at work told me about a boarding school that would be perfect for you. "

I was on my phone when he said this so I half-listened, as usual. He was clearly desperate about my behavior and had every reason to be. Now I understand. At the end of the afternoon, my father called me and reminded me that he had to take me to the dentist for an annual check-up. I'd completely forgotten, it wasn't something I was interested in remembering. I stayed in the same clothes and he took me to the dentist. I really didn't remember the appointment. Once there, my father accompanied me inside. A waiting room with other parents and their teenagers. There were guys from high school, who were also dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts and sneakers. I wasn't the only one who dressed like that, which is why it seemed normal to do so. When it was my turn, the dentist called me in. I sat down in his dentist's chair. He asked me to lie down so he could check the inside of my mouth. He put some products in my mouth to relax it. And these products were starting to put me to sleep; he'd put in more than usual. 

I had fallen asleep on his armchair, I didn't know for how long. When I woke up, my hands were tied tightly to the chair. I tried to speak, but my mouth was still anesthetized. My father was talking to the dentist, and they were both looking at me. My father had collected my things, my bag and my phone. Looking around, I soon realized that I wasn't really at the dentist. The man posing as one approached me and said: 

"Elliot, your father, has informed us of your behavior at home and has decided to leave you with us for a while. Do you agree? "

I couldn't answer as my mouth was still anesthetized. 

" Since you're not answering my question, I imagine you're completely in agreement. If you don't say anything within a minute, we'll assume you agree."

I was trying to speak to refuse and scream for help, but only discreet moans came out. 

" Then we do have your agreement. "

My eyes began to tire again and I finally dozed off again.

I don't know what treatment he gave me, but it was like a dissociation. I saw myself outside my body like a ghost looking at my body. My father left with my things. The staff laid me properly on the bed and undressed me. I was completely naked at one point. They put a red ball in my mouth and covered my mouth with a gag that held with a tight strap behind it. I was as if unable to act, in the hands of my kidnappers. They dressed me in a white short-sleeved polo shirt, buttoned all the way up, tucked into khaki shorts with a brown belt, white knee-high socks and black loafers. They then cut my hair and styled it, neatly styled to the side and held with wax. I began to regain consciousness little by little, but I felt as if I were paralyzed in my own body, between the products that were still taking effect and the bonds that prevented me from fleeing. 

"Elliot, you're back with us. We've prepared you in a more respectable outfit than the garbage you used to wear. This preppy outfit suits you much better. Your hair looks much better like this. You probably have a lot of questions, but you're in good hands. I'm Doctor Greenwood, I'm here when sometimes you need a little push to get you into the Academy. I'll leave you here tonight and you'll make your official entrance tomorrow. "

I was stuck on this bed for several hours, and above me they'd set up a screen with a series of images and sounds that I had no choice but to watch. And no matter how tempted I was to close my eyes, a deep voice kept reading every word on the moving image. Eventually, I fell asleep to the rhythm of the video, which hypnotized me as it went along. 

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy” again and again and again...

This mantra was stuck in my head like music that never wants to come out. I still felt resistance, an urge to rebel and run away, but I was blocked and strangely began to feel pleasure at the idea of being a good preppy boy. 

When I woke up, four men in their thirties, all dressed in pastel shirts tucked into their pants, with bowties and loafers, took me by force. They took me by the arms and forced me to follow them. They put me in a van and tied me up. My gag was still in my mouth and I couldn't scream. I was at their mercy, with no power or control over the situation. I was their object. 

I was taken to a large, ivy-league type establishment, at the top of the main entrance is written “Preppy Academy”. I was led inside and up the stairs. I arrive in a very elegant office, with wood paneling and bookcases on every wall. The 4 men undress me.

I find myself in a preppy outfit: a white and blue striped OCBD shirt, pastel yellow shorts, red and blue suspenders, a dark blue and red striped tie tied around my neck, long white knee-high socks and dark loafers. Nothing to do with my outfits at home. I've been completely transformed into a preppy boy. I'm left with my hands tied and my mouth gagged in this office. I don't know what to do, I'm a slave to this establishment. My outfit isn't as comfortable as the one at home, I can feel the fabric of my shirt on my torso compressing me, the suspenders holding my shorts are like two ropes binding my outfit to my body, the pulled-up socks are so humiliating, I feel like a boy. But as I think I'm disgusted by my outfit, I realize that it actually turns me on. I like to think I have to be dressed like this to feel good. A few minutes later, a man in his fifties walks in. He's dressed in a nice three-piece suit, with a red tie. He looks at me deeply: 

"Hello Elliot! Welcome to the Preppy Academy. Your father told me you weren't behaving properly at home. He contacted us and paid for your enrollment. Whether you like it or not, you're staying here. You'll wake up here and sleep here. Your education needs to be reviewed. You must learn to be a good preppy boy for your superiors. I am M.Gilliard, the principal of this prestigious establishment. I am the Master of all the students here. You owe me obedience, submission, service and respect. "

These words enchanted me, and even though I wanted to leave, I could only nod in agreement. 

"To complete your admission among us, I must collect something. "

The 4 young men from earlier return and make me sit down on the chair, holding me tight. Mr. Gilliard unzips my pants and pulls out my penis. I start moaning, not agreeing with what's happening. Mr.Gilliard puts a sort of cage on my penis, forcing it to stay very small and any erection would hurt. 

" It's called a chastity cage. I'm the only one who keeps the keys. Every good boy here is caged. Your personal pleasure doesn't matter; you're here to obey and learn to serve. Your only satisfaction at the end of the day is to please men superior to you. "

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy”. This phrase made more and more sense. I was introduced to the establishment, the rules to follow and taken to a room I had to share, with a wardrobe full of preppy clothes, nothing I'd had before. 

I've been here for two years now and I don't want to leave. I like to serve my Master when he asks for it. I like being a good preppy boy. Obedient and helpful. I don't miss my old life anymore. I encourage all boys and men to come to the Preppy Academy. You'll love it! 

[keelt9]

Paper 1

Masterlist

The first time Max saw her, she was sitting with her legs crossed in front of an old clockmaker's workshop writing in red paper as the snow kept falling slowly all over the small town. 

Max’s family had the tradition of going to Benasque, in Spain, every Christmas and New Year, keeping far away from the busy world of racing and enjoying some time with family.

“What are you doing?” Max approaches the girl who didn’t bother to lift her eyes from her paper as she writes like her lifes depends on it.

“Writing.” Max bluffs rolling his eyes, but he insisted.

“Kinda obvious, what are you writing?” He tilted his head trying to read whatever she’s writing. 

This time the girl with a red beanie lifted her face, rubbing her hands trying to get rid of the cold. “A Christmas wish.”

“For?” Max couldn't avoided, she had something that triggered his curiosity. 

“For?!” Like Max just asked the most terrorist question, the girl sits properly and points to the big Santa Claus in front of the clockmaker's workshop, next to a red mailbox. “Kind of obvious too.” 

“Really?” Max looked at her like he was observing the most outrageous person. “He’s n…”

The girl stood flooding his paper and got his pen on her big red cape. “Are you a Grinch or something like that?”

Max laughs purely following the girl who carefully walked waiting for the cars stopped to cross the street. “It’s an old clockmaker's workshop with an old mailbox, what makes you think that could even work?”

The girl opened the mailbox where, to his surprise, had a considerable amount of papers and letters, the girl looked at him with a self-sufficient smile.

“You’re kind of sourpuss for having what 6 year olds, maybe 7?” Max opened his mouth in total disbelief, who the hell was this girl.

“6 and half.” The girl nods, walking back to the bench unconsciously making space for him to sit.

Max sat next to her. “Now what?” 

The girl laid back her head with a smile but didn’t look at him. “Well, I like to sit here and watch, from time to time you find interesting people who actually believe in Christmas magic.”

“I don’t say I don’t believe, it’s just I have my reserves.” Max stretches his neck and relaxes his body. “Let’s see if you have the right.”

For 4 hours they waited outside as they were covered in white and their faces turned red, spoke about every little thing like they were friends of life, and one more time the mysterious girl confirmed her theory. They saw little kids walking along their parents, teenagers who observed side to side of the street fearing someone could catch them doing something wrong, adults that simply stood longer like if closing the mailbox means as prayer and old people that after came across the street and gave them a small candy or coins for they bought something nice for these holidays.

When the few sunlights started to disappear, the girl stood and waved her hand to the other side of the street. 

“Well, Mr. Grinch, it's been a pleasure, I have a lot of fun.” Max felt overwhelmed but happy. “Thanks for joining me.” 

The girl extended her hand which Max gladly accepted and shook. “Oh my God! You’re freezing, you forgot your gloves or something?”

Max didn't forget them, it’s part of his training, resist the cold temperatures, hoping in a few years all these things bring thousands of joys for him and his family.

His lack of response made the little girl narrow her eyes but let it pass. “Put it on the fire as soon as you get home.”

Max chuckled. “Thanks, little elf.” He pointed to his beanie and her red black boots. 

The girl laughs purely nodding her head. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Count me in.” Max walks away but he notices he doesn’t have a name. “What's your name?!” He screamed as the girl kept walking backwards.

“I’ll tell you later!” 

As the years passed, that’s how Max spent every last two weeks of December, before parting ways the 2nd of January, walking around the small town, eating candies and spending hours in front of an old clockmaker's workshop; loving the company of a little girl with a red beanie and black boots. 

Their name never comes and honestly they never needed it. 

The year Max finally joined Red Bull he could barely wait for Christmas holidays to begin, he had big news to share.

But Christmas wasn't nice all the time, that year knowing he could turn in the main driver of Red Bull, his father strictly denied him to move far away from Milton Keynes, he must be there.

Max obedient waited at least for the 23rd of December hopping his father could change his mind, still he hasn't, so in a last attempted he asked to his sister Victoria, that please, at least she went there before New Years Eve searched in front of the old clockmaker's workshop for a girl with a red beanie and black boots, and told her he would go next year.

“Max, how would I know I found the right girl?” Victoria asked as they said goodbye in the airport.

Max shook his head and hugged his sister. “Please, just tell her to wait a little bit.”

The pleading eyes of his brother was all Victoria needed to agree and looked at the Christmas girl.

Unfortunately she didn’t get her goal, her mother and her flight connection delay a couple of hours by the time they arrived to Benasque, it was the first hour of the 4rd of January, even when Victoria went to the old clockmaker's workshop the owner told her the girl came like every year and go, last night.

“A little defeated, she waited for his little friend.” The owner said taking the red mailbox of the entrance. 

Victoria left her number in case the girl came but the owner was cleared, like the snow, she and her family only came that three weeks every year.

The next year Max started to make his own powerful path, fearing he could miss an important moment, he started to write all the special moments in a red notebook, he didn't want to miss any little detail for sharing with his little elf. 

The next year with a victory between his hands, and the support of his mother Max went to Benasque,  just maybe his elf could be already there. 

Until the day before Christmas she didn’t appear in any of the places they used to go. 

The old man came outside of the clockmaker's workshop with a cup of hot chocolate and gave it to him. “It’s weird for me too.”

Max took a sip seeing the marshmallow floating. “She came like always?” 

The old man smiles and nods softly like he could picture the scene of last year, a teenager girl coming in the last hours of Christmas eve with a folded blue paper for leaving in the mailbox.

“She waited a little bit longer that night.” Max felt his heart squeeze. “She waited for a last minute Christmas miracle.”

Max saw the mailbox and took a piece of paper from his notebook, leaving the cup next to him. “Do you have a plan in mind, young boy?”

Max smiled, writing as fast as he could. “Helping the big guy with a miracle.”

Max didn’t notice but the old man has a proud smile and the certainty that this bound is for life. 

With a folded piece of paper Max crossed the street, opened the mailbox and put his wish and understood why the adults years ago closed the lid carefully, fearing that their wish would not come true.

His first championship came and the little elf didn’t, like every year he waited for hours every day as he kept writing in his second notebook, but she didn’t come, and every Christmas Eve he left his same wish on the mailbox.

When his third Championship came he walked the street covered in snow with a backpack, now with 4 notebooks in it. 

However this time, the old man reached him before he even got to see the bench. 

“She’s here!” The old man's face is bright beside the cold wind. 

Max opened his eyes ready to run but he was stopped. “Wait boy. I heard from the woman at the bookstore that she was already here but she hasn’t come…”

“Thanks.” Max didn’t let him finish; he grabbed his arm before running to the bookstore three blocks away.

The woman repeated the same words, she was there, bought a book and left, without saying another word.

Max's blood froze but he had to ask. “Did she look sick?”

“Oh no, she is beautiful and healthy as always, the red cape is switched for a navy blue coat but stunning as always.” The woman smiles remembering how the small girl turned into this beautiful woman. 

“Did she have a ri…” The woman smiles tenderly at Max and grabs his frozen hand.

“Any man or ring with her, boy, she just seems anxious.” Max breaths out feeling his chest doesn’t hurt.

He tried to think where she could be but for years, they spent all their holidays around the town, she could be anywhere.

Following his ritual he took a piece of paper from his notebook with his wish and left it in the mailbox, just this time in the next morning, in the mailbox a blue piece of paper appeared.

“Take it.” The old man said take it out and give it to him. “Maybe it’s your miracle.”

Max with shaking hands and holding carefully, he unfolded the paper.

<Merry Chrisymas Mr. Freeze hands!>

She was there, she definitely was there.

“Are you nuts?!” Daniel said almost choking with his dinner.

Max has a plan in mind, using all his resources for having his wish come true.

“It’s just a few words in the air.” Max rest importance cleaning the corner of his mouth. “Besides it’s on the SIM, isn’t  harmful.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “Harmful? No, but come on Max! Everything you said in a blink will be on X, instagram, facebook, and other platforms.”

“Exactly! More diffusion, more reach.” Daniel shakes his head knowing trying to change his friend's mind, even if it is useless.

“You already talked with your team? Redline team.” Max didn’t answer, just kept eating. “MAX!”

Max laughs. “I’m planning to do it tonight!”

His team agreed with the strong belief that Max won't get it, not because they didn't want it, just because he's trying to find an old friend with any name and just barely any information that could be used to find someone.

“Ok Max, your turn.” Crane mentioned preparing the next race.

Max feels nervous, he giggles before speaking. “I would love to get some help from all of you.”

The chat immediately went crazy saying they would be glad to help.

“I lost contact with an old friend, so I was hoping you can help me to find that person one more time.” The chat lights on asking for the name or country. “Well, keeping things private I’m only going to tell you, I’m helping Santa Claus just this year.”

Max reads the comment that it’s like finding a fish in the ocean, impossible. “We used to spend Christmas together, in front of an old clockmaker's workshop.” That’s useful information, Crane laughs reading the comment. “So, can you please tell; little elf, I’m giving a hand to the big guy with red costume.”

The moment quickly goes viral, all the people are moved by the fact a triple world wide champion lost an old friend and he’s trying to find it for Christmas. It's so tender.

What wasn't tender was how the season is going, the first races all point to another brilliant season for the team until it isn’t.

Max constant researcher is paused everytime, and by the middle of the year the only useful information he gets is that the team is using this research to make more people know about it. 

But Barcelona took him by surprise.

With another win Max is fully focused on celebrating until before leaving the paddock one of the girls in charge of liaison, runs to get him before he goes.

“MAX!” The girl looks like she's seeing a ghost, pale and with wide open eyes. “You must see this.”

She gives him what a plain sight looks like and an old photo, he takes it as they keep walking until the car.

Finally inside he takes his time, or that's what he planned to do until he notices he doesn't have to, he recognises the girl in the photo.

Standing in front of a big Christmas tree as another girl hugs her looking at the camera, the other girl older and taller, wearing a white cape and black boots is laughing; his little elf is standing there with that beautiful smile, her red cape, black boots and rosy cheeks.

“Where is she?” Max asks, grabbing the seat ready to open the door and go wherever she tells him she is.

“That’s the problem.” She moves her head indicating they're ready to go. “I don’t think she’s here.”

“What?” Max looks through the window in panic as the car keeps moving. 

The girl gives him a piece of paper, as a number on it. “The girl who gave me the photo is the older one, she said the girl in red is her little sister but…” Max notices the hesitation on his teammate.

“But…” The girl turns around to see him in the back seat, as she narrows her eyes, Max is going crazy every second.

“Well, she isn’t that confident you’re looking for her sister at the right moment.” Max didn’t mean to explode, however it’s hard to control his emotions. 

“What the fuck?!” He takes his cap rubbing his face in his hands. “Sorry, sorry, I just… What else did she tell you?”

“Call her, both of you need to talk.” 

Max's mind surrounds for endless questions. Where is she? Did she know he’s looking for her? How is she? Why isn't it the right moment? What the hell has to do her sister in all this? 

Arriving at his hotel room before going to celebrate he dialed the number, concreting a meeting tomorrow in the morning at his hotel. 

“This isn’t true!” Daniel screams so Max could hear him among all the noise. “Come on Max! You’re not that foolish to believe this.”

“It’s the only coherent clue I had!” Max takes a sip of his drink.

“Or maybe it’s the sign for you to give up.” Max looks at him with cold eyes. “It’s been 6 months Max, let’s be real we’re not in a movie.”

Lando finds them on the table. “Are you planning to stay here so I can bring you a cup of tea or have fun?”

Next morning Max wakes up earlier than usual, his mind full and confused with Daniel words and the photo in his hands, when the hour they meet approaches he walks more than 10 times to the door and back to his bed. 

Slowly he remembers when she turned 10 years old, and arrived before him. By the time he got to the bench she had in her lap a cheesecake.

“What is this?” Max pointed as she smiled, taking out a candle making space between them to put the cake. 

“It’s my birthday, well… it was, but I’m making my own wish come true.” She carefully put the candle in the middle of it.

“Weirdo.” Max smiles at the ways she is so excited. “Wishes don't tell unless you don’t want to make it real.”

“Reason why I’m making it real, duh.” The girl lights the candle carefully as crosses her hands, closing her eyes. 

Max immediately starts to sing a happy birthday song softly observing how her smile grows bigger, when it ends the girl blows her candle.

“Now, what was your wish?” Max asked, grabbing the spoon the girl gave him. 

“Spending my birthday with my best friend.” Max froze in the moment a spoon stuck on the small cheesecake and a girl eating like she just said the most casual thing of the world.

Max smiles softly seeing the photo one more time, fuck everybody, he’s follow his little elf steps, making his own wish true.

[s4wdvator]

a friend of a friend — sam winchester

SUMMARY: Sam went to a Halloween party because of his best friend, and when he found himself bored and wanting to leave, his friend finally decided to introduce him a friend.

PAIRING: Stanford!Sam Winchester x fem!reader

WORDS COUNT: 2.2K

WARNINGS: smut, y/n used two times *i guess*, gentle sam, oral sex (f! receiving), p in v, kisses, sam playing breasts, sam embarrassed, sassy reader lmaojejejej

a/n: I literally think I nailed it this time HHEHEJE, I literally loved writing this. I love Stanford! Sam. I think I should write something with him lol. Have a good read!!

sam winchester | masterlist | more abt me!

English is not my first language, I apologize if there is any mistake <3 (maybe I interchange 'he' and 'she' too much. I'm so sorry)

This fic will have sexual content. MDNI

Sam was not a party guy, especially those of Halloween - which reminded him of his reality- He didn't have many friends in his childhood or adolescence, he never managed to stay long enough in a school to have real friends or even a girl. But then when he managed to cut ties with his father and won a scholarship at Stanford University, he felt free for the first time.

In just a few days at the University, a blonde girl named Jessica soon befriended Sam, and with this new friendship with Jess, he became invited to events, outings and parties of Jessica's most popular friends.

Now, Sam is stuck at a Halloween party in some dorm. He has a plastic cup with any drink he found and drank, he was really already under the influence of alcohol but not necessarily drunk. He looked around the old couch he was sitting on, where just staring at the place he was in, made him sigh, because all he wanted was to be in his dorm, quiet and just studying, nothing very difficult to have, if Jessica hadn't begged.

It had been almost half an hour since he was there, doing nothing, just trying to finish the drink from his glass. When he really couldn't finish, he just left it next to a fainted guy on the couch. He got up, looking for Jessica, just to say goodbye to his friend, he was determined to leave there. As he walked, he murmured several "I'm sorry" to the lowest people he ended up bumping into. When he finally found Jess, she was in the kitchen talking to some girl who was with her back to him, where he just saw the back costume, which was from Alice in Wonderland.

"Sam!" Jess said excitedly as she faced her friend.

"Hey..." Sam said in a simple and slightly embarrassed way for being close to a presence he doesn't know.

"I'm glad you're here," Jessica said, throwing the typical mischievous look and smiling, "Well, this one is y/n!" The blonde said smiling and excited, she was definitely drunk.

Jess had definitely already talked about this friend of hers, y/n, like, Jessica had been trying to get this girl for him for almost a month.

"Well, I'll let you talk. I'm going to go after a refill," Jess said getting up and smiling at the two friends and soon leaving the kitchen.

"Hey...I'm Sam. Jess she had already said...a lot about you" He said putting his hands on the back of his neck and scratching, in a shame.

You can't help but smile, he was definitely cute and clearly under this outfit—that you couldn't identify what his fantasy was—he had a muscular chest and trunk, maybe nothing really exaggerated. It was crazy how, you hadn't even spoken to him properly and you already imagined him shirtless.

"Well... Hi Sam" You said excitedly, while smiling. You didn't know if it was already alcohol taking over your mind or you were just really happy.

You and Sam were talking for long minutes, you found out that his major here at Stanford was right, he is 21 years old, he has one more brother, Dean, 25 years old, his mother died in a kind of fire or something, and he and his father fought. His life was chaos, definitely. But apparently he loved you and loved the fact that you were studying psychology here at Stanford, since he didn't say a word to talk about. Everything he said, he found a way to return to the subject due to the fact that you are a future psychologist. He also praised you too much, this guy is a real gentleman.

With a few more minutes of conversation, the party started to get music and more colorful led's which caused you to no longer be able to talk so clearly when listening to each other.

"Do you want to go to my dorm?" You finally had the courage to ask him, of course, with a slight hesitation and fear of what the answer would be and if it would be some kind of rejection.

"Of course" He smiled more sympathetically at you.

When you had already gone to your dorm, you started talking to him normally, and clearly he listened to you attentively but couldn't stop paying attention to your lips, how they moved, how you sometimes licked him or bit him like a kind of craze of yours, or how your sweet voice came out of your throat.

"Do you want to sit down?" You asked him, pointing to his bed, while you took off your black high-heeled boot and sat on your bed.

"Yeah...I mean, of course," he said more embarrassedly, causing slight laughter coming from you and soon he sat next to her, but he didn't expect to be so close to the points of her thighs that were involved in her black trawler, touching his long legs.

"So, what kind of music do you like? I mean, it's 2004, you have to have something good about music" You joked while looking into his eyes, which you thought were brown but in fact, surprisingly, they were green.

"Well... I hear these classic things more. Metallic, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC..." He began to say, and that made you make a surprise face and face him.

"Really? No Usher? Justin Timberlake? I don't know" She laughed, clearly surprised that he just listened to classic rock.

"Whet? No, I mean, don't get me wrong, they're great. But I grew up listening to this kind of music and...well, doing things with my father and I didn't have much time to get to know pop culture, jazz and etc.," he said smiling, while staring at you in an enchanted way.

"Get it. But it's okay, I'll show you" You smiled staring at him, and he let out a loose laugh.

"You're funny" He smiled and stared at you for a few seconds, analyzing her blurred Alice's makeup. The way your hair was more or less messy. The way his lips called him and seemed more kissable than before. And before he could really think about what to say to her, he kissed her, not knowing if he would receive a slap in the face, a push or a curse coming from him. Surprisingly, you responded to the kiss more in the mood than him, while his hands went to his face, theirs were already holding his waist firmly, which seemed nothing compared to his big hands.

He carefully guided you to his lap, while the kiss was getting longer and longer, you could feel his hands touching every inch of you, now, with the kiss slightly intensifying, his hands were now caressing his thighs, sometimes some of his fingers entering inside the holes of her black line trawler, which honestly, for him is quite sexy.

His hands traveled to the buttons of the dress, which were located on his back, while he worked on unbuttoning his blue and white Alice dress. His hands were taking off his dark blue denim jacket.

She let out a slight moan when his hands slid to her thighs and then entered inside her dress, and when she touched her waist to be able to take off her dress. And once your dress came out of your body, and you were only in your bra and panties. He let out a sigh, admiring, before holding you firmly by the hips and kissing your neck next to the collarbone and he stared down, seeing the contour of your breasts and let out a sigh and smiled, you are beautiful from his point of view.

He carefully took you and left it underneath, he kept kissing your body and carefully, their hands went to the back of your bra and unbuttoned the buttons of the bra. When the bra got loose on his shoulders, he took it off and stared at his breasts—which seemed too perfect from his point of view—and then, he began to kiss his left breast while his big hands circled the shape of his right breast, he sucked his nipple and you let out a slight moan and put your hands on his hair, when he finished the service and attention to his breasts, he began to kiss his stomach until he reached his panties, he stared at you, as if he had asked for a kind of permission and you just nodded your head, already desperate for the The idea of his touch in your intimate area.

He carefully left a kiss against his panties and hit his clitoris right—which was already swollen with so much desire, along with how soaked you were—he put his hands on the straps of his panties and pulled down and smiled when he saw your naked pussy, just for him.

He sighed against his intimacy, causing a slight pleasure in his body.

Sam gently opened your legs better and then began to kiss his thighs, slow and wet kisses, until he reached his pussy. He started with kisses on the clitoris before moving forward and using his tongue two more times and then starting to work more with his tongue at his entrance, but his pointed and beautiful nose kept pressing his clitoris with each advance with his tongue at his entrance. Causing moans in the dorm.

While he did it slowly, trying to make it last as long as possible. His hands were on his hair, pulling, picking up, caressing, while his hips arched against his mouth.

When he started to accelerate more with his tongue, you moaned feeling that maybe you couldn't take that much.

"Sam..." You tried to warn that it wouldn't last that long.

He smiled, understanding the message of despair in his speech and accelerated more, when you saw it, you had come into his mouth, and he was eating his pussy for a few more 30 minutes and finally, took off his shirt and concentrated on his lips, while his hands caressed his chest—which was exactly as you imagined, muscular but hot and not at all exaggerated—his hands began to unbutton his pants and then take off and soon get into boxers.

You pulled him closer, and felt how big he really was, you couldn't tell if it scared you or excited you, maybe both.

So, he got rid of his boxers, and you were seeing his cock for the first time, it was thick, big and it was very hard, which made you unintentionally but genuinely smile.

You tried to touch, giving the intention that you also wanted to do oral, but he denied it, saying:

"I'm a gentleman. What kind of guy would I be having a blowjob on the first night with you? Sorry princess, next time" He smiled at you, making you laugh that he was such a gentleman.

"Fine" You smiled.

Then, the head of his cock pressed against his clitoris and rubbed lightly.

"Sam..." You let out a weak moan for the provocation coming from him.

He laughed, murmuring a 'sorry' before his cock rubbed his pussy and then the head of his cock began to enter his entrance.

'Oh my God' you thought.

So, he tried to advance another part of his big father and then his hands squeezing his broad shoulders while he looked at you with concern.

"M'Okay...it's just bigger than I expected" She laughed and so did he and sighed relieved.

When he began to move slowly and carefully, the entire length of his penis entered you and you could no longer hold the moans. He was being so careful, and loving with you that he surprised you.

While he stocked up strong but gently, despite reaching the cervix of her uterus, it is being one of the most pleasurable experiences of his life. His hands held his hips, to get more momentum. His others were now on his back, scratching, but nothing to the point of hurting him on purpose.

You smiled when you were getting closer and closer to reaching your climax. So, as if it were a way to try to get there faster, his hands that were on his back went to his ass, trying to force him to go deeper and he laughed.

"Calm down sassy girl" He whispered and smiled at her.

You let out a laugh, before you felt the climax approaching and he smiled when her walls began to squeeze his cock, understanding that she was very close.

"You can let go, babe" She whispered in her ear and kissed her jaw. The nickname caused chills all over your body and without thinking, you came surprisingly next to him. You let out a moan and sighed.

"God..." You whispered and he laid his face on your neck, still with his cock inside you "You better not have made me pregnant" she whispered jokingly, and he laughed, realizing that they had had had unprotected sex, which would be worrying, if you did not take care of yourself and were taking contraceptives.

"It's okay, I hope" he smiled and kissed you again, before taking his penis out of you and lying next to you and hugging you and you hugging him back as you felt him cover him and you with the blanket of your bed. And so, you ended up sleeping, feeling Sam caress your hair.

[amaranthineghost]

ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻

| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairings: lando x reader

ꕥ parts: 1

ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp

ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.

ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!

ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.

IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?

he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.

it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.

it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.

he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.

he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.

more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.

he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.

when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.

max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.

when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."

lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.

"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.

"I'm fine."

"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."

"I will."

"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."

lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."

"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.

"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."

he paused, "fix it 'ow?"

lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."

"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"

lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.

"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.

"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.

"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"

"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.

"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"

"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.

"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"

"when we had dinner together."

max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"

"i 'ont know."

"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.

"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.

"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.

"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.

max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"

lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery

he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"

"you truly are a muppet."

"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.

and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.

his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.

he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.

it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.

" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."

it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.

"yeah, I know."

he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.

she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.

so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.

she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.

but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.

she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.

because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.

she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.

she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.

"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."

she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.

so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.

because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.

when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.

she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.

"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.

"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.

"but I was the one who broke you with you."

he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.

" 'nd I was the one who left."

she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.

her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.

his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.

"just don't leave again."

he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.

and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.

his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.

"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.

her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"

he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."

money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.

so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.

she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.

they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.

candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.

they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.

when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.

as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.

his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.

his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.

his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.

he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.

his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.

he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.

he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.

he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.

his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.

the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.

he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.

he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.

vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.

he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.

his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.

he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.

but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.

[navillee]

HIII i really love your writing and i really want to request you this ^^ seeing your recent post about dawnbreaker zayne made me think that...i would love to see some dawnbreaker zayne and mc angst from you 🫣

Since English isn't my first language, I'm delighted to read that. Dawnbraker Zayne angst here we go!

I miss her. That was Zayne's conclusion as he walked by the empty streets, where no soul could be seem. How can he miss someone he has never met before? The old and almost destroyed Linkon tourist's guide kept on his hands as he wandered on a ghost city, by the time forgotten, hoping he could savor glimpses of someone who wasn't there anymore. To hunt memories, so he can repeat to himself that, at least, in another life, he was happy;

The dreams started when he was a way younger. He thought it was just his brain's way to cope with his burden, but when the same pattern repeated itself over and over again throughout the years, Zayne knew there couldn't exist such coincidence. So he became obsessed.

He searched on every data about his other self. How life was before, when the pre stage wanderers weren't such a treat to society as now. The hospital, the hunter's association, the establishments he used to visit, and most importantly of all: you;

He thought he wasn't envious of his doctor version at first. Dawnbraker was able to deal with the lack of family since he never had one or even friends and a healthy life structure in general. But you. Oh, you. The girl in the dreams with the bright personality and warm tone of voice. Dawnbraker felt envious for the first time when that voice called his name. He knew it wasn't his name, and it hurt;

He bought your favorite candies and put them at his half empty apartment. He even bought flowers in an illusionary attempt to bring you closer, in hopes you would show up. But you didn't exist in his world. It comforted him to do it, though. It was his ritual before he went to sleep. If he kept you alive in his mind during the day, you would grace him in his dreams;

It was so fucking unfair. The way he kept a diary of his dreams at the bed table besides his bed to engrave every detail of you was fucking unfair;

He even did portraits of you — the drawing ability he discovered his doctor version also had — because he got terrified, thinking that all of sudden the dreams could come to an permanently end, and he would never be able to see you again;

From that desperation came the avaricious felling of rights upon his other self. He wanted as much time with you as he could get. Dawnbraker's dreams had become his drug;

It was like day and night had switched positions. Dawnbraker Zayne was performing during the day, surviving every second of it. He started to kill the humans before they could turn into wanderers like they were just numbers. It wasn't real after all. No, it was just a bad nightmare that he would wake up from, in Linkon, embraced in your loving arms and sweet voice. He rejected his life, believing that was his right to possess Doctor Zayne's one;

He needed his fix. He needed desperately every night. When he didn't get it, he became reckless, killing to vent his anger, killing in revenge at the universe for giving him this miserable existence. He killed almost for joy;

When two weeks passed by without any dreams, he went a step further into his addiction. One pill. Just one to make dawnbraker Zayne sleep properly and get to his other self. He swallowed it, taking two sips of water. His head hurted, and his hands trambled. But it was functional. Dawnbraker fell into a deep slumber;

It worked amazingly. The pill helped to keep his staying with you more vivid. Even though he couldn't feel physically what Zayne felt, he could see your face clearly now. It wasn't a blury dream. You were so perfect, every detail, walking on the rain together, the sound of the droplets of rain hitting the umbrella mixing with your laugh. Zayne wanted to cry. Would you notice his tears in the rain? You both were soaked, you and him apparently stopped by the convenience store to buy an umbrella;

You were holding some shopping bags and a bouquet of flowers, the same flower he has bought back in his world. He felt glad you received them in this universe. Dawnbraker felt guilty. Has Doctor Zayne noticed the flowers on the counter while he stayed in his world?

After that wonderful dream, Dawnbreaker faced his fall. It started with one pill that turned into two in only a spare of weeks, then three. He killed half human beings, then he drugged himself to the life he could save those people. To where he has a perfect life, when he was looked to as a person, not a feared shadow living in the corner;

He remembered to left hints on his apartment to the other Zayne from that night on. Flowers, movie tickets from the movies released back then, some not too revealing notes... some revealing ones;

One day, he arrived at his apartment with an injury on his arm. He had seen so much blood that day, spilled so much blood. His blood and innocent's too. Dawnbraker felt an excruciating pain. He felt totally abandoned in the universe;

In order to forget the pain consuming him, he swallowed all the remaining pills left on the bottle. He didn't have much time, so he send a message to the only number he had registered on his phone since that little boy accident, and also placed one item on his bedside table as he always did, so his other self would capture what he wanted Zayne to do, and he slept;

Dawnbraker found himself in the corridor to your apartment, his heart pounding on his chest like he wanted desperately to live. He stumbled at the open door's frame, rushing into your living room, finding you there, safe and sound, his pretty girl, as always. Dawnbraker wanted to cry again, and this time, he let himself;

"Zayne? What happened? Is everything okay?" You came rushing to him, and this time, he couldn't hide the surprise. On this dream, he was able to feel your touch;

He crumbled on his own weight, falling on his knees in front of you, his eyes sparkly with crystal clear tears washing over his face, pupils stagnated on you. As you brushed his tears off, he placed both his hands on top of yours, nuzzling his face against your warmth, felling you for the first time;

"Hard day at work?" You asked, and he sobbed, hands trembling as he tried to stop the tears. So you hugged him. With any word needed, you just stayed with him, the man's big frame hidden in your neck crook, warm tears running down your skin as you keep a tender scratch on his hair's scalp;

"S'okay Zayne, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you." She coped his face with both hands, touching both foreheads together, and kept caressing her thumbs on his face. "I love you. And there's nothing in this universe able to change that."

Doctor Zayne woke up at the infamous, almost empty apartment, almost screaming in pain. What had happened? Why was he there? His head was spinning, he was sweating, and as soon as he raised his head to check on himself, he was also bleeding. The bedsheets were soaked in blood;

Zayne tried to get out of bed to serch for medical supplies in order to staunch the bleeding. But he failed when he computed the actual condition of his counterparts arm: it wasn't human anymore;

Then, Doctor Zayne remembered the uncountable notes left to him by himself from that sick reality: "Wanderers. Infectious danger." Then he understood. It was his worst nightmare, the last one;

He made a colossal effort to try to get off bed. There's need to be a solution, a way out to save himself from that destiny. Then, he stumbled his hand on a little item left on the side bed table. He groaned in pain on the process to bring the object closer to his sight;

It was a little box. His last item was a set of rings. Engagement ones;

Dawnbraker Zayne opened his eyes, meeting your tender gaze, too flabbergasted to even speak. His body just leaned, seeking more of your warmth. You understood him and his cowardice, so you simply leaned the remaining amount of millimeters between both lips, kissing him again and again and again. "No need to worry. I'm gonna take care of you today, okay?" You said, making tears run down his eyes. "You...promise?" Dawnbraker asked, his throat aching for trying to hold his happy tears;

"Off course I promise! I'll always take care of you, Zayne." She smiled again. After a terrible life, Dawnbreaker felt loved. He pulled you for a last kiss. "Thank you. I'll always love you, no matter when or where. Remember that."

Blurred by tears, Dawnbreaker's vision faded away from that reality into nothing. But while he took the last look at you, all passionate and feelings love, he couldn't be envious anymore, because he was once, loved by his dream girl, he was at least once, truly happy. Dawnbreaker finally could fell peace;

Delirious by the pain, the last thing Doctor Zayne could hear was someone kicking the front door, presenting themselves as police. Before his bedroom door was broken entirely down, he placed the ring box near his chest, clenching his grip around it;

Doctor Zayne opened his eyes again to meet yours. The pain had vanished, and he returned to his world. As you kissed all over his face, he smiled, hugging you tightly as tears ran down his face. That was his last nightmare as Dawnbreaker, and Doctor Zayne would make sure to fulfill his last wish;

Just then, one day, Zayne would also give his last breath beside the woman he loved dearly.

E N D

[httpswritings]

The Great War — Katie McCabe x Reader

Additional info: Story inspired Taylor Swift’s The Great War. I’m in my Katie era, but I’m also planning on writing about other players, especially Alexia, which I have like four ideas to write about. We’ll see. I also have a draft of Ruesha x Katie inspired in Moth to a flame by The Weeknd, but I’m doubting about posting it or not. Maybe in the future I’ll write a Caitlin x Katie fic, but I don't have a clear vision of them yet to properly write about them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, throwing up and therapy, sensitive topics overall, avoid reading if you find them triggering. Angsty Katie.

Word count: 1691

Right after Katie ended her relationship with Caitlin Foord, she met Y/N. After some time, they got into a relationship together. They enjoyed every single second of the magical connection they seemed to have. With the passing of time, Katie became more and more anxious about her relationship with Y/N. She doubted she could be what Y/N deserved, even though her girlfriend took her time every day to remind Katie that she's never been as happy in a relationship as she was with her.

«My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked»

Two heartbreaks in such a little time, with both her Ireland National Team's member Ruesha and girlfriend of seven years, and her Arsenal's teammate Caitlin Foord, who was her girlfriend during half a year, made the Irishwoman insecure about her ability to love, to trust, to have a happy fairytale ending. Katie knew these thoughts would damage her relationship with Y/N, but she couldn't help but to spend most of her day tracking every single detail that built her relationship to the obsessive point where she felt absolutely sick of herself.

«Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground»

When she reached her limit, she told Y/N about what was going on. Y/N responded well and helped Katie, and it started well. Really well. But after some time, Katie fell back into a cycle of doubt and anxiety, and those sensations kept growing when she noticed any change in Y/N's mood, as she took it too personally. This made her re-experience in her mind those moments of stress while she was with Ruesha or Caitlin.

«And maybe it was ego swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur»

Y/N tried to understand her, she tried and tried but eventually, she reached her limit.

“I want to help you. I really do. But I can't continue like this. I'm not Ruesha, nor I am Caitlin. I am aware that being in a new relationship it's difficult for you, so maybe we should take things a bit slower. I don't mean to take a break, but maybe I should go back to my flat. We will move on slower than we did before, but I do think it's the only way to work it out.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Sweet dream was over»

“Yeah, maybe you're right´”, that was Katie's only response. Y/N limited herself to sigh. That night, Katie slept alone in her bed. Her body reacting to the cold sheets and crying herself to sleep.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War»

Sweet morning messages from Y/N, “Good morning, baby. Do good at training today! Love you ;)”

Surprise visits from Y/N, lovely gifts, usually handmade ones, brought Katie to tears as she felt endlessly loved.

«Always remember

Tears on the letter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie prayed for things to get back as they were during the first months of the relationship. The feeling of her not being a good girlfriend to Y/N haunted her even in her sleep.

«You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone»

Y/N suggested going to a therapist together, but Katie was unsure about that. She thought that if she couldn't quite open to her girlfriend about her feelings and thoughts, she wouldn't be able to talk about what was bothering her to a therapist. Such a huge contrast between the two parts of the relationship that drew them even more apart.

«You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playing with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'

Screamin' from the crypt

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it»

“No, I'm sorry, but I'm not doing this. I feel uncomfortable talking to a stranger about our issues.”

“I know, baby, I was just suggesting it. Let me explain you why. We are aware of having some problems in our relationship, but we don't really know how to get through it. We've tried and things keep getting worse. Maybe talking to someone who's out of our relationship can make this whole situation clearer for the both of us.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

The bombs were close and

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

The burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie took some weeks to meditate Y/N´s idea. She was terrified of being judged by the therapist they would talk to. Even more scared of Y/N realizing she didn't do any good to her. Eventually, she agreed.

“Maybe she's right. People attend therapy sessions. It's normal, Katie. It's normal”, she said to herself.

«It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed»

Katie was not new to getting help from a therapist. She was very open about her mental health in different areas of her life, whether that included football or not. The first time she attended a therapy session was when she was a teenager. It went well, so did the first sessions with Anna, Katie's and Y/N´s psychologist.

Making progress is not a linear process, and making mistakes is a part of the success. Mistakes are a victory in themselves, it means that you're still trying. One day, Katie had an individual session with Anna. Anna felt it was Katie's time to open about her two past relationships; a young adult romance that lasted for more than half a decade and a short but intense romance of one year after a breakup.

It was a slow conversation filled with many pauses from Katie.

“Are you gonna tell Y/N what I'm telling you?”

“No, Katie. This stays between me and you”, said Anna.

As Katie told her her experiences in love, she broke down.

The wall she had built, in order to avoid being hurt and judged, collapsed in that therapy room.

“Don't be afraid to cry. You have nothing to prove to me nor to Y/N. This is about you and your healing process. Y/N will help you and accompany you, but it's crucial for you to work on yourself, especially being a public figure.”

«Your finger on my hair pin triggers»

As Katie arrived home, she unlocked her phone and asked Y/N to come over.

“I've asked Anna, and she told me it was a good initiative and a great way of gaining some independence in our relationship, leaving her out of it for a while. Don't feel obliged to!”

“I am exhausted, baby. Work was something else today, and I’m a little bit irritated because of it, lol. Maybe another time? Love you.”

As Katie was about to spiral, she remembered Anna's advice. She breathed deeply. Y/N was setting her boundaries. She trusted Katie enough to tell her the truth and not to make any excuses. She felt tired from work. Y/N is not mad at her. She didn't do anything wrong. Everything’s okay.

«Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops»

The next day Katie woke up to a text from Y/N.

“Good morning, princess. I had a great sleep, what about you? How did you sleep? I’m up to seeing you today if you feel like it. Love you.”

Still slightly asleep, she smiled.

“I can't wait to see you today, beautiful girl. I had a good sleep, too. Good to have the bed all to myself ;))”

She frowned after sending the text with that joke at the end.

“Breath, Katie, let these useless thoughts pass. Both you and Y/N feel comfortable teasing each other”, said Katie to herself.

“Ha, ha, really funny. We both know you missed having me snoring next to you.”

“How do you know?!?!”

«That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you»

As Katie was preparing herself to go out with Y/N to have lunch, she remembered the night where Y/N left her house.

She doesn't freak out to the thought of it, but instead she does an exercise of introspection. She sees herself in her mind, almost throwing up, completely emotionally depending on her girlfriend while pushing her away and bottling up her feelings.

«We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

The worst was over»

Now she looks at herself in the mirror. She sees herself, Katie, as the woman who knows that she's loved, and she's deserving of being it. The woman who respects her girlfriend’s boundaries and doesn't freak out at the tiniest change that she perceives. The woman who's going to take her girlfriend out to have a good time having lunch, not worrying about anything but what order she's going to have.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

We're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I vowed I would always be yours»

As they arrived home back from the restaurant, Y/N walked towards Katie.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You did this. You are doing it every day. I’m so excited to see where our relationship leads us to.”

As Katie sobbed, she softly laughed, “It’s nice to cry sometimes. God, I feel so relieved. I’m so proud of myself, too, of us! Thank you for being there for me, Y/N, thank you. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life as your girlfriend.”

“Even when you'll wake up to my snoring?”

“Especially when I'll wake up to your snoring.”

[brights-place]

[TWST] (Chenya) x M! Reader

1K 5 Part Special: 1 , 2 , 3 (You are here) ,4,5 Warnings: Fluff, cursing

A/N: 3rd post for the 5 part series rubbing my hands together happily for getting 1K How have you all been? school holidays started so I can write and draw as much as I want !! anyways I'm so excited to be able to write and people enjoy it! it's also kind of short too my mind went blank half way

Summary: Chenya drags you to RSA when it was hosting a festival for sage island so he couldn't help but want to bother someone and he only thought about bothering you

When you first met chenya all you thought was that well he was extravagant, cheerful and mischievous as he likes to pull pranks for the sake of seeing people's frightened faces. Like when he likes to only making his head visible to terrify Deuce and Ace to look like he only has a head for a body part. Che'nya seems to be rather carefree and isn't afraid that much of the NRC students who holds hatred for Royal Sword Academy and their students, sometimes visiting Heartsabyul to see Trey and Riddle, despite being a student of Royal Sword Academy so how che'nya seems to grin towards you every time he comes to visit ditching his childhood friends to bother you he even enjoys to steal your stuff vanish with them and place them somewhere else so when che'nya came to you with his usual cheshrie grin and hovering over you to go with him you were shocked but accepted the request to go since other NRC students were going aswell to cause chaos but lets ignore that.

Che’nya strolled through Heartslabyul’s rose maze, his golden eyes lazily tracing the neatly trimmed hedges and vibrant red roses. The scent of freshly painted petals lingered in the air. Che’nya wasn’t here to admire the scenery. His gaze flicked around sharp and searching for the one person who had captured his attention since the unbirthday party then he finally saw you. His grin widened, tail flicking behind him with quiet amusement. With a mischievous glint in his eye his form began to fade, limb by limb, until he melted into the background of the garden "Hello every nyan how are you?" lips curved into a smirk. His tail brushed lightly against your arm as he leaned in close, his eyes gleaming with mischief as you let out an noise of confusion as he smiled "Fine thank you" he cackled leaning over your shoulder cackling as you groaned swiping his face away as he giggled fading his body back properly. "chenya!" you muttered swiping his face away as he vanished again reappearing a few steps ahead lounging casually on a bench as if he’d been there the whole time. His grin was unapologetic eyes alight with amusement “I didn’t scare you, did I?” he asked though the sly curve of his smile made it clear he wasn’t sorry in the slightest as you sighed going to sit beside him before he threw his legs on your lap as he stretched lazily he crossed his arms behind his head, gaze never leaving your “Why don’t ya come a little closer?” he teased, voice dripping with amusement. “I’ll behave… unless, of course, you tempt me not to.” You playfully batted his legs off your lap as he laughed before sitting up head laying on your shoulder as his tail brushed against your side lingering longer this time as his grin grew slyer as you smiled softly at him he was annoying yes but he was nice to be around.

“Those two first year students aren’t around, are they?” he asked his tone light but carrying a hint of curiosity. he’d hoped to catch you alone like this He relished having your attention solely on him sometimes though he would catch you with ace and deuce and also scare them for fun but being around you by himself was better. Each time he visited he made it a goal to ‘accidentally’ bump into you and today… things had gone exactly as he’d planned to find you 'bump' into you and scare you for fun. He couldn't help but relax with you on the bench before speaking "Hey... Do you wanna- like come to RSA? it's a festival going on" he said flicking his tail to your face as you swatted it away before speaking "I mean... if your paying" che'nya snickered "Who said Im paying?" You laughed softly before nodding "You know what yeah after all this stuff with everybody I don't mind hanging out with you" Che'nya couldn't help but perk up at your comment ears twitching slightly as his usual chesire grin "See I told you I can be very purrsuasive" he smirked as you snickered "Purrsuasive...? seriously Che'nya?" he gave a huge cheshire grin "Whatt? I think it was purrfect- Hey!" he laughed trying to push your hand away from yanking his ear before smiling at you with not his usual cheshrie grin but a softer one before hearing a voice "LOOK THAT CATS BACK!" Che'nya grinned before looking seeing NRC student point to him as he spoke "Oh gotta go buh bye nyah" he grinned vanishing as the NRC students ran over "Shit he's gone again! prefect are you alright?" You smiled and nodded "im fine you all should do your duties before Riddle finds you guys" the boys dispersed as soon as the thought of riddle collaring them entered their mind. When you went to the festival you were greeted by some RSA students which caused your face to sour it was not the same as NRC but relaxed when you see the famillar face of Che'nya who appeared infront of you and slinged an arm over your shoulder "lets go nya" the day flew by as you both hanged out even two of you getting matching keychains of two cats making a heart with their tails when connected and also buying che'nya a stupid hairclip which he copied the expression of causing you to giggle. The two of you were holding hands after going on a few rides before stopping at a cotton candy stall as che'nya smirked taking a bite of your pink cotton candy as you gasped before stealing a bite of his tasting the sugary snack as Che'nya and you had a bite of cotton candy war over the flavored puff balls of sugar smiling childishly with eachother.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[latanyalove]

I'm Right Here With You

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Pairing: Chopper x Motherly Y/N (Slight Zoro x Y/N)

Content: Discrimination against Straw Hats, misunderstandings, light angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending in part 2

A/n: Part 2 Here! I'm so happy and grateful for passing 200 followers! For that, we are celebrating this little one's birthday, who is also mine and Zoro's child. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Happy Birthday to my Little Raccoon Dog!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Even though you were new to the Straw Hat Pirates, there was one member that you had quickly grown close to.

The adorable doctor of the ship: Tony Tony Chopper.

Due to the fact that you are naturally capable of manipulating water without eating a devil fruit, you have suffered a lot of injuries trying to control the sea as a result.

Which meant a lot of visits to the doctor's office, which was great for the both of you. You healed quicker and Chopper had the chance to test out some medicine on you as well as get special plants from the ocean.

Nami would say that you two were two peas in a pod, which would confused Chopper and ask you to explain what it means to him.

You often attended to Chopper's needs, acting like a mother or older sister figure towards him. You would make sure he was eating properly and scold him if he was being reckless.

Chopper would often confide in you, as he knew that you would be able to provide him with the understanding and care he needed.

The crew had just arrived at a new island: even though the crew had been to many weird islands, this one was in the top ranks.

Apparently the whole island thought that they were in the year 1890, their dressing completely different compared to the crews clothes, all of us receiving stares especially towards Nami, Franky and Brook.

"Why is she wearing hardly any clothes?" "Is she not ashamed?" "She must be a slut,"

Listening for only a second, you quickly drapped your coat over her shoulders, staring back at the civilians. Nami looked self-conscious, which was never the case. Ever.

Luffy didn't even know half of the words that were said but seeing Nami's reaction made him boil in anger. Fortunately Franky caught on and closed Luffy's mouth before he would start yelling at the citizens.

"Let me go!" Luffy tried to say but Franky whispered something which kept him quiet for the meanwhile.

After a while, the mayor finally revealed himself to them, demanding why pirates were coming to 'terrorize' this island.

The calmest of the crew, Nico Robin, stepped forward and tried to explain herself but the mayor wasn't calm enough to be reasonable.

"Liar! Pirates are never to be trusted!" The mayor stated, looking for the residents to make the scene bigger.

"Mr. Mayor," Robin started, her voice unrecognisable as the rest of her words were whispered but it seemed to have made an impression on the leader.

"Oh- Okay, you have until tomorrow night to get out of here," The mayor said, trying to mask his fear with a fake confidence.

Robin turned around with a smile, pleased with her work.

"Let's go back to the ship to figure out a plan," She said and we quickly agreed, a path was given back to the ship in an instant. . . .

Chopper had been walking with his crew members through the town aware of the stares that he was receiving but it didn't affect him as much.

He had grown accustomed to the curious gazes and judgmental whispers that followed him wherever he went. He knew that being different was part of his identity as a reindeer with human-like abilities, and he had learned to embrace it.

"Mother! Please help me!"

Chopper's ears perked up amidst the noise of the town, and he quickly turned his head towards the desperate cry for help. Despite the stares and whispers, his compassionate nature couldn't ignore the plea of a child in need.

With a determined stride, Chopper followed the voice, ready to lend a helping hand.

I'll be back soon guys.

Navigating through the crowd, Chopper's hooves barely made a sound as he closed in on the source of distress. The echoes of the child's sobs grew louder, tugging at his heartstrings and fueling his determination to bring solace and assistance.

"Shut up little child!" "Stop crying!"

Chopper witnessed something terrifying: two drunk men beating up a child. His instincts kicked in, eating a Rumble ball to be in the Horn Point form as he rushed forward, using his strong antlers to fend off the attackers and protect the defenseless child.

With the attackers quickly defeated, Chopper's attention shifted entirely to the frightened child.

He turned into his Brain Point form before kneeling down beside them, he offered a gentle smile and reassurance.

"What's your name?" Chopper asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

The child sniffed and looked up at him, their eyes wide with fear. "M-Mark," they stammered, their voice trembling.

Chopper nodded, his heart swelling with a mix of compassion and determination. "Don't worry, Mark. You're safe now. Are you hurt anywhere?"

Mark shook his head, realizing that Chopper was not a threat. Grateful tears welled up in Mark's eyes as he whispered, "Thank you. I'm just scared, but I'm not hurt."

"Mark! Baby! Where did you go!?"

Chopper's ears perked up at the sound of the female voice, and he turned his head to see a woman frantically searching for Mark.

With a reassuring smile, he gestured towards the child and said, "Don't worry, I found him. He's safe with me."

"Thank you so much! I was so worried," the woman said, tears of relief streaming down her face as she embraced her child tightly.

"Come on, Mark, we have to go meet up with your father," she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him away.

As Chopper watched them walk out of the alleyway, he noticed that there were more women with their sons walking in the same direction at the same time.

It was a peculiar sight, but Chopper understood that he couldn't judge their traditions or the reasons behind their actions.

Maybe it was Mother's day? Or a mother and son bonding day for the island?

Suddenly Mark looked back, his eyes filled with terror instead of gratitude.

It was clear that the woman claiming to be his mother was not who she seemed.

Though before he could do anything about it, he felt something make contact with his head, knocking him out. Darkness consumed Chopper as he lost consciousness, unaware of the danger that awaited him. . . .

It has been 2 hours since Chopper had gone missing and you really started to worry. You couldn't help but imagine all the possible dangers he could be facing out there alone in the dark, and the thought made your heart sink.

Even though Luffy said he would be alright, you couldn't help yourself from envisioning Chopper in dangerous situations. Thoughts of him being chased by predators or getting lost in unfamiliar territory consumed your mind, causing your anxiety to intensify.

"He's going to be alright," a voice said behind you, making you jump.

You turned around to see Zoro standing there, a reassuring smile on his face. "Chopper is resourceful and has survived countless dangers before."

"I know but I can't help but worry," you said, your voice trembling with concern. "I know Chopper is resourceful, but what if this time is different? What if he's in real danger?"

Zoro's smile faded slightly, but he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "He's tough remember, he's part of this crew for a reason,"

You nodded, staring out towards the island from where they were docked, and tried to find solace in Zoro's words. Deep down, you knew he was right. Chopper had always managed to find his way back to the crew, no matter how dire the circumstances.

Your heart still ached with worry, but you held onto the hope that Chopper's resilience would once again lead him safely back to the Sunny.

Without saying anything, you saw Zoro hand you a bottle of sake and you accepted it, taking a large gulp of it. As the warm liquid burned its way down your throat, you felt a sense of temporary relief wash over you.

"I've been meaning to ask, why do you act so motherly towards Chopper?" Zoro asked curiously, breaking the silence.

You paused for a moment, contemplating his question. "I guess it's because I see a bit of myself in him," you replied. "I know what it's like to feel scared and alone, and I just want to protect him like I wish someone had protected me."

Zoro nodded understandingly, his gaze softening. "Well, he's lucky to have you looking out for him," he said sincerely.

"Since we're asking questions, why do you act so fatherly towards Chopper?" you said, turning to face him.

There was hardly any space between the both of us since you were sitting close to him but you didn't care. Zoro, however, seemed taken aback by your question, his cheeks turning red and his eyes widening in surprise.

After a moment of hesitation, he finally replied, "I guess it's because I see him as a younger brother?"

"Is that all?"

"No," he muttered, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. "It's not just that. I care about him, just like I care about you."

His words hung in the air, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the unexpected confession.

"Well, I guess that makes you the overprotective dad and me the overly concerned mom of Tony Tony Chopper," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Zoro's cheeks turned even redder, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, he's lucky to have us as his parents," Zoro replied, his grin growing wider.

As the tension between you and Zoro reached its peak, the air crackled with anticipation. Time seemed to stand still as his lips brushed against yours, sending an electric shock through your entire body.

The kiss was soft yet passionate, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed. Every touch, every caress, spoke volumes of the unspoken desires that had been brewing between you. In that moment, it was as if the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a sea of euphoria and longing.

"Zoro, are you there?" The voice of Luffy was loud, enough for the both of us to back away from each other in embarrassment. The moment shattered, leaving us with flushed faces and a lingering tension that neither of us knew how to address.

"I'll go with him," Zoro said, quick to get up and leave, his sudden departure leaving you with a mix of confusion and disappointment.

You couldn't help but wonder if the intensity of the moment had scared him off or if there were other factors at play.

You couldn't help but wonder if Zoro's sudden departure meant that he didn't have romantic feelings for you. The lingering uncertainty left you questioning whether the kiss had fallen short of his expectations or if there were other reasons behind his retreat.

Was the kiss not good enough for him? It was your first kiss after all.

"Hey guys! Did you know what happened at the base?" A voice below at the dock said, capturing your interest. Curiosity piqued, you leaned over the railings of the ship to catch a glimpse of the commotion down below.

"No, I've been stuck guarding the area."

"Well I heard that the pet of the Straw Hats, Tony Tony Chopper was captured using our simplest trick," The male laughed, "And here I thought that they were strong!"

Your heart sank as you quickly sobered up at the mention of Chopper's capture. The playful moment with Zoro was instantly forgotten as a wave of worry and determination washed over you. You knew you had to find Chopper and bring him back safely, no matter the cost.

Sorry everyone, I couldn't wait any longer.

Without a second thought, you jumped off the ship and quietly followed the sound of their conversation, determined to rescue Chopper and ensure his safety.

You weren't the best at stealth, but you managed to stay hidden and follow them to their base, careful not to alert anyone of your presence.

As you approached the entrance, you couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline and determination, knowing that Chopper's safety depended on your next moves.

"The password?" A voice said behind the door.

"Evolution prevails," The man said confidently and in a matter of seconds, the door opened.

Right. You knew the password, now you just needed to infiltrate the base, without knowing how strong or how many they are.

Maybe you should have waited for Luffy's command.

No, Chopper needs you right now. He could be in the brink of death and you're the only one in the whole crew who knows more than just CPR.

You walked to the door and knocked twice like the previous did, saying "Evolution prevails,"

The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit corridor. As you stepped inside, the sound of faint footsteps echoed in the distance, urging you to tread carefully.

Since you were fairly new to the crew, you didn't have a wanted poster yet so it was easy to talk to people without being noticed.

"Hey old man, do you know where Tony Tony Chopper is being held?" you asked the elderly man who seemed to be drinking alone. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and caution.

After a moment of hesitation, he leaned in closer and whispered, "You're looking for the pet of the Straw Hats? What do you want with them? Are you supposed to be guarding them?"

"Yeah, I'm new here," You muttered, holding back from sending the man flying.

"Really? Well you're in luck, you get to take care of the weakest prisoner. He's already been beaten up in the basement so you can just watch or join in with the beatings!" The old man laughed.

"Who knew that the future King of the Pirates would recruit such a useless-"

He was on the verge of finishing his sentence when his own drink flew out of his cup, forming a helmet around the top of his head and drowning himself in the alcohol.

Instantly, panic erupted in the bar as the old man desperately tried to break free from the makeshift helmet of his own drink, while the other workers looked on in shock and disbelief.

The chaotic scene caused a momentary distraction, allowing you to slip away unnoticed and continue your search for Tony Tony Chopper.

You ran through the corridors, your heart pounding with each step as the image of Chopper's injured form lingered in your mind.

The urgency pushed you forward, determined to find him before it was too late. Every passing second only fueled your anxiety, driving you to search even harder for any sign of your little reindeer.

It was then that you found a staircase going downstairs, leading you deeper into the labyrinthine prison. With each step, the air grew colder and the atmosphere more oppressive, heightening your sense of foreboding.

"Please help!" "This is hell!" "I'll pay you to let me out!"

The desperate pleas and cries for help echoed through the prison, creating an eerie chorus that sent chills down your spine. The darkness of the corridors seemed to consume the flickering lights, adding to the feeling that you had indeed descended into the depths of hell itself.

Chopper, just wait a little.

As you made it to the end of the staircase, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you wasted no time in searching every jail cell with unwavering determination. With each guard that stood in your way, you swiftly overcame them, using your water ability to ensure nothing would stop you from finding and rescuing Chopper.

The prisoners ranged from young to old, humans to animals, but all of them were beaten up and injured. Their bodies bore the marks of brutality and their faces were etched with pain and despair.

It was a grim sight that served as a constant reminder of the cruelty and suffering within the prison walls.

"Y/N?" A voice whispered from a cell you quickly past by.

You recognized that voice straight away, turning back to look inside the cell. It was Tony Tony Chopper, his small frame huddled in a corner, his eyes filled with fear and hope as he saw you.

"Chopper!" you exclaimed, rushing to the cell and reaching through the bars to hold his trembling hand. "I found you. We're getting out of here."

You were shocked when you saw how beaten up Chopper was. His fur was matted with blood, and his limbs trembled with pain as he weakly clung to your hand.

It was clear that he had endured unimaginable suffering, and your heart ached with a mix of anger and determination to rescue him from this hellish prison.

"Y/N?" Chopper asked in a shaky voice.

"Yes Chopper?" You answered, looking through all of the unconscious guards clothes to find a key from the cell.

"Am I really the weakest?" Chopper asked, his voice filled with self-doubt.

You looked into his eyes, filled with determination, and replied, "No, Chopper. You are strong in your own way."

After finding a key, you quickly let him out, unlocking the cell door and embracing Chopper tightly.

Feeling the warmth of his trembling body against yours, you held Chopper tightly, letting him know that he was safe now and that you would protect him with all your strength.

"I thought you guys were going to leave me here," he cried, clinging onto you, his small body shaking with relief.

"Never," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him even tighter. "I will always be there for you, Chopper. As your mother, I would never leave you."

As Chopper clung onto you, his trembling body slowly started to relax. He looked up at you with tear-filled eyes and let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Now come on, let's get back before Dad gets mad," You said, remembering the event of before.

"Dad?"

"You know, the swordsman that always carries you around," You reminded him.

Seeing his face light up made you smile. "Zoro is my dad?!"

You nodded, enjoying to see the grin on his face.

"Hey! A prisoner is escaping!" A guard yelled from a distance.

You quickly snapped back into reality, realizing the danger that lurked outside the cell.

As the guard's shout echoed through the corridor, the sound of heavy boots hitting the ground grew louder, reverberating against the cold stone walls. Each thud seemed to send shockwaves of fear through your body, reminding you of the urgent need to escape and the perilous journey that lay ahead.

"Just don't let go and let me do the rest," you instructed Chopper, tucking him closer to your chest, as you both sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Your ability was very useful since the basement was basically flooded.

As you ran through the flooded basement, you summoned your power, manipulating the water to rise and swirl around you. With a flick of your wrist, you sent powerful torrents crashing into the guards, knocking them off their feet and rendering them unconscious.

Water obeyed your every command, becoming a formidable weapon that cleared your path and thwarted anyone who dared to oppose you. . . .

By the time you two had made it out of the base, you were battered and bruised just like Chopper, your bodies bearing the physical scars of the fierce battle you had fought.

You breathed hard, trying to catch the breath that was knocked out of you moments ago by the doorman. The adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you glanced at Chopper and saw a worried look in his eyes.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" He asked worriedly, looking back to see if anyone was following us.

You reassured him with a faint smile, your voice filled with determination, "I'm fine, Chopper. We made it out together, and I won't let anyone harm us."

As you staggered, each step feeling heavier than the last, you kept your eyes set on the sea shore, where your crew members would be waiting for you in worry.

What would they think of you? Will they be disappointed when they see you because you disobeyed your captain's orders? Will they kick you out of the crew? Will Zoro, Luffy's first mate, hate you?

As you struggled to stay on your feet, the waves crashing against the shore seemed to grow louder. Chopper's worried face blurred in and out of focus, and before you could answer his question, darkness enveloped you, and you succumbed to unconsciousness.

"Y/N! Y/N please get up! If we get to the ship, I can use my medicine to heal you so stay awake until then!" Chopper said, panicked.

"Please, mom," you heard the distress in his voice as Chopper pleaded for you to stay conscious.

The sound of his worry cut through the darkness that surrounded you, urging you to fight against the pull of unconsciousness and make it to the ship where he could treat your injuries. . . .

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

[evans23]

Daughter of mine II

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Daughter OC

Summary : The great judge Turpin tries to adapt to his new role as a father. Awkward, he doesn't realise that his daughter doesn't find her place in this new world.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : A bit of angst I guess. Mention of prostitution and death. Awkward father. If I forget something, please mention it to me !

A/N: Hello dear 😁 Here the next part of Daughter of mine. Enjoy !

Part I - Part III - Part IV - Part V

Also read on AO3

The first days were awkward, to say the least. Catherine was intimidated by her new surroundings and Turpin didn't know how to be a father. He didn't really try either. He didn't have any good paternal figure when he was a kid, his father being the kind violent. Besides, he couldn't stop thinking it would have been easier if he had been in the child's life from the beginning. 

Not only did he have to catch up with six years of his daughter's life, almost seven, which was utterly impossible, but also, he wasn't sure how to impose his authority on his daughter. His daughter... Even this word sounded strange to him. 

It had only been two weeks since the girl had moved in with him, in his mansion. The servants were totally enamoured with the child, who was reserved and overly polite. She never asked for anything and ate everything that was served to her, even when it was obvious she didn't like what was on her plate. Fortunately, her governess could read the little girl far more easily than her dad, and each time she noticed an imperceptible grimace of disgust, she warned the cook not to prepare this food for the child anymore. 

True to his words, two days after her arrival, Catherine got a tutor. In fact, more than one. One of the teachers had for a mission was to teach her how to write, read, and speak properly, like a well-mannered lady should do. Another one was there to teach her to speak French and Italian and another one to provide some music and drawing skills.

She probably should learn how to dance, sew, and many other things a mother would judge necessary for his daughter to know, but Turpin wasn't a mother, scarcely a father, and those trivial competencies weren't what mattered the most for Turpin. He wanted a well-educated daughter, with knowledge in his head and not just an empty brain as too much lady of his acquaintance. Turpin was a conservator, yes, but he knew how important it was to be able to think by itself, even for a girl, even more for his daughter !

The triviality would be learned later, when he decided it was time to introduce her to the high society, in a timely manner. For the moment, there was no place for any leisure. Anyway, the hectic schedule of Catherine didn't leave any room for that. She had a tiring day like she had never experienced before. 

She had to wake up at seven o'clock, half past six sometimes, and be ready with the help of her maid before eight. She had a light breakfast before the start of her courses, which only stopped once at noon to let her the time to have lunch and then at half past four in the afternoon. From half past four to five, she had some time to play on her own but she had to be quite imaginative, for there were no toys for her. Not because Turpin was too stingy but because it hadn't crossed his mind that the girl could need more than pretty dresses and coats. 

However, Catherine was so happy with those beautiful clothes that she wore them with unconcealed joy as she had never had new clothes before, even less expensive and elegant dresses like these one but only the old ones of her mother who took up it as best as she could, that she didn't dare ask for more. 

In addition, she had three meals a day, water at will, tea in the morning, and even orange juice and snacks during the day if she wished to. But what delighted her the most was the hot cocoa her governess brought her every night before sleep. A beverage her mother couldn't afford at all. Also, and for her biggest relief, she was allowed to keep her candles lit all night to make the terrifying shadows of her past disappear. And she knew how expensive was a candle, her mother told her so each time she asked to keep one alight for the night when she was alone and so afraid.

Unfortunately, despite all the affluence she was surrounded with, she felt alone. Terribly alone. She had no friends, wasn't allowed to go out, except for the backyard of the mansion, but anyway, it was too cold to play outside, but more than everything else, she missed her mom. She was also secretly longing for a father. But Richard didn't seem to appeal to the idea or at least, it was what she thought. 

Richard was never home. He left an hour before her waking time and came back far after her bedtime. He worked every day, including on Saturday morning, and during the afternoon, he was locked up in his office. The only room she was forbidden to enter in. Should she have been bolder, she would probably intruded into his sanctuary of peace to have the privilege of his company, but the natural severity emanating from the man was enough to keep her on track. 

Sunday was the only day during which she had breakfast with him, but he wasn't very talkative and she didn't know what to say to the man who, inevitably, dismissed her in her room or in the garden with her maid to let her have some clear air while he was, yet again, in his office, working on court cases or attempting some business with The Beadle. 

And because she couldn't have a piece of Richard, not necessarily his heart, not even his affection, even though she was in desperate need of a bit of that more than the beautiful dresses and the palatable food, she started to become sad. Sadder than she was when her mom died or when they were living in the paucity on the outskirts of London. Sadder than when she had lost her little cat, dead because he was starving and her mom couldn't buy enough food for the three of them, sadder than when she had been sent to the orphanage. 

In fact, she felt deceived by the man she had thought would be more than just his savior. The moment she had understood who he was, she had thought he would be his father, the one she had wished for on every birthday, and also for Christmas. She had begun to feel the need to fill in the hole in her heart with the presence of the man she had dreamt of. Moreover, the death of Elena, her dear mommy, had enlarged that hole, and the instant she had acknowledged Richard for who he was, she had wrongly thought he would embrace his role as a father. How stupid she had been. How a man who had left her mother with a broken heart could have loved her ?

The governess and the maids had already understood what the child was longing for. She needed her father's love to heal. However, Richard wasn't mean on purpose. He just didn't know how to step into the life of the child, how to take up his place as a father. Of course, he knew he just had to be himself, but the truth was that he was afraid to act like his father. Never could he forgive himself if his daughter was as afraid of him as he was of his own father when he was a child and even a young teenager. 

He had promised to himself, the day she arrived home, that never ever he would beat her, no matter her wrongdoings. Never she would hear the sound of a whip on her back and even less the feel of it. Nevertheless, he was a firm believer in the fact that a kid needed a sprinkle of authority. Even more than a sprinkle. 

Yet, he had to admit that she was easy to manage. She didn't run amok around the house and apparently, she didn't inherit the malicious and devious traits of the Turpin. Also, she never answered back, something Richard had done many times at the same age, which had owed him many slaps in the face. And surprisingly, he found himself wishing she would answer back because it would mean she was talking with him. In his presence, she was always silent and he didn't know if it was because she was impressed by him or just because she didn't adapt well to her new environment, but it was bothering him. 

"Sir, may I enquire how is doing the daughter of yours ?" asked The Beadle, that morning in the court office.

Richard looked down at him suspiciously. He didn't appreciate the attention Beadle thought necessary to have towards his daughter. He knew the man too well and didn't have any difficulties to figure out his intentions. He would be cold in his grave before a man like him could consider being betrothed to Catherine. The girl wouldn't have any suitor before her twenty-five. Or before his death. And he was able to defy God's authority on that matter just to be sure she wouldn't fall for a miserable like Beadle. A depraved man like him. In fact, after consideration, a man at all !

He dismissed The Beadle with a frown which said far more than his mouth. For God's sake, he thought, never come the day she would find man interesting. Not that they were all that bad, but Catherine's legacy would be substantial. Indeed, he had already found enough loopholes in the law to prevent his manor and all his wealth from being entailed to a stranger cousin he hadn't met in his life. All he knew about that man was that he was living in Australia with his wife and a son of sixteen named Elliott. 

"How is she ?" he asked as usual when he came back from the court to the maid.

"Asleep," answered merely the woman. 

She was the oldest maid of the manor, also the one who was able with Richard diplomatically enough to bring him around the right decision. 

"Did she eat ?"

If the answer was no, which happened sometimes, he always made sure she had a heavy breakfast in the morning, one she had to eat entirely if she wanted to have a break after her last course of the day. It only happened once that she was deprived of her playtime. Turpin knew it wasn't a solution to punish the girl when she didn't feel like eating, but she was so thin, even after two weeks of the best food that he was afraid to see her fall sick. Eating wasn't a pleasure, it was vital. 

"Yes."

The quietness of the maid made him suspicious. 

"What's the matter, Anne ?" he asked roughly.

The old woman wasn't impressed at all by the man. She wasn't afraid to stand up to him, even if she had already threatened to fire her or worse, to send her to a colony in the middle of nowhere in the upside-down. Perhaps the fact she had been his governess when she was a child had something to do with it. And even if she was grateful for the man to have hired her after her husband's death when he was still a young man, barely established as a young lawyer thanks to the influence of his family. 

"The girl is depressed," she stated frankly.

"Depressed ? We are not depressed at her age. She didn't know anything about the hardness of life," he prompted harshly.

"As you didn't know anything about it at the same age, I guess ?" Anne uttered perfidiously. 

The look Richard gave her would have made anyone else shriek with fear, but the woman didn't flinch under his stringent gaze.

"She is not mistreated here," he growled, his tone a dangerous warning.

"No, but she is alone. No friends, no toys, only studying the whole day."

And no father, she added for herself. 

"I've no acquaintance with child of her age," stated Turpin, "and for the toy, I'll leave money on the buffet tomorrow morning. Go into town and buy what you think is fit for her."

Anne shook her head with disapprobation.

"What ? Woman, do you want to live on the street ? It's where you would be if it hadn't been for my great kindness," groaned Richard, his patience thinner and thinner at each rolling eyes of the maid.

"The gift would have more valor if it came from her father," she simply pointed out. 

Richard, whose eyes were flashing with all his anger, hurried away to lock himself in his bedroom, slamming the door violently to let everybody know how angry he was in the whole house, but more peculiarly Anne, how displeased he was tonight.

The next morning, there was no money on the buffet, which made the maid smile. She was sure her words had reached Richard.

The day seemed to drag on for poor Catherine. She was too distracted to focus on her lesson, which annoyed her teacher who scolded her, promising her to give a report to her father about her bad behaviour. Catherine didn't say anything, even though she found it quite unfair as she just let her mind roam around. It wasn't as if she had disrupted the class by chattering incessantly. Anyway, except for the servants, there was no one to speak with. 

The second teacher was far more lenient with her, asking her why she was so lost on him. She shrugged her shoulders, but the man, who had three daughters and eight grandchildren, wasn't dupe. There was a heaviness in the heart of the little girl. He tried to incite her to open up, without success. He didn't insist as he didn't want to frustrate her. He understood that she was like her father : she didn't give her trust easily and the old man wasn't keen to damage the bond he had started to create with her.

At the Court of Justice, Turpin wasn't more focused than his daughter. He had adjourned the Court, even though he had found some pleasure in not temper justice with mercy. Anne's straightforward honesty had kept him up all night. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to hurt the child, yet he knew he would if he was too involved in her life. He hadn't had any good role model and it wasn't as if he wasn't providing the child with everything she needed. But deep down, he knew it wasn't what she really needed. He had been a child too and back in time, he would have traded everything he had, money, wealth, high education, and the best tutors for the love of his parents. Or at least their care.

Her mother didn't have any maternal instinct. She had been married by force to a cruel man. She had given him an heir, then another one, who had died at the age of fifteen. His younger brother, more sensitive, more fragile, had made the terrible choice to stop breathing by hanging himself to the attic load-bearing beam. Richard was already studying in London when it happened. It's the butler who had found his brother and the boy had been buried in the highest discretion. No one knew the truth, except for the Turpin's family. Richard would never forget the belt lashes of his father when he had made him swear to never reveal the real causes of his father's dead. The truth would have disgraced the family. 

Catherine deserved better than the heavy Turpin's legacy. She deserved to be happy. And because he had been raised by the worst parents, he could be better. He knew everything he mustn't do. He knew how he could destroy her, therefore he knew how not to. 

He left the Court earlier than usual and well-decided to have supper with his daughter. Yet, when he arrived he found the manor too calm, almost as if everybody was already asleep. It was only five, so the venue should have been alive with servants accomplishing their duties, not with the distant cries of a little girl.

Turpin strode up the stairs, worried that something had happened to Catherine when he stumbled upon Anne.

"What's happening here ?" he asked roughly, "while Catherine is crying and where is everybody ?"

"It has been a tough day for the little mistress. Her classes didn't go well. Mister Wosley, her morning teacher had been quite hard with her. He wrote a rapport about her bad behavior, but the governess was with them and she assured me the little girl was quiet as usual, she was just not focusing on her lesson."

"And she's crying for a rapport about her behavior?" asked Turpin bewildered.

"She's afraid you don't want her anymore. The paper is quite severe."

"Because you read it ?" asked Richard, his eyebrows arched, the slightest annoyance on his face.

"No. She did and then she read it to me because she couldn't understand some words. I explained them to her in a more... soft way. I also assure her that you won't send her away because of the angriness of a teacher."

"You did well," said Richard absent-mindedly. 

He pretended to go to his office to read the note, but the maid retained him by clearing her throat. He turned around to face her, a questioning look on his features.

"What else ?" he asked, annoyed at his highest.

"This afternoon, she went out with Mister Brandon. He wanted a change of scenery to cheer up Catherine and..."

The maid hesitated, biting her lower lip.

"Anne, I'm tired, my daughter is crying which, I have to admit despite my disgust at doing it, distraught me, and I'm terribly hungry, which only add to my annoyance. If there is more, then speak without any diversion," he chided, his square shoulders and his stern eyes leaving no room for argument.

"Well, they found a strayed kitten and Catherine had brought it back. Mister Brandon didn't see the harm in it. But once he left, Harry, the stableman, told her that you didn't like animals and that you would probably throw the little pet against a wall to kill it if she didn't get rid of it before your return. She and her governess were trying to find an appropriate hideout for the little cat when she heard you arrived. Yet again, we tried with her governess to tell her you wouldn't do that, but she didn't believe us and now she's afraid Harry told you about her new companion while she didn't find anywhere to hide it."

Richard sighed heavily. The weariness and tiredness put a strain on him. 

"Thank you for telling me, Anne. Ask the butler to thank Harry with no money and reference. The boy doesn't work in my stable anymore,' and with that being said, and the package in his hands, he headed towards Catherine's room.

The governess froze when, after having closed the door, she turned around, almost bumping into Richard.

"My lord," she said with a curtesy.

"How is she ?" he asked, ignoring her terrifying eyes on him. 

"I managed to calm her down, but she is very afraid that you scold her or worse for what Mister Wosley wrote about her. She swears it's not true. And also..."

The woman wasn't sure she should keep quiet. She knew everything she had to about Turpin's bad temper and she had been here for only two weeks, also she didn't know if he could kill or not an innocent kitten.

"What about the cat ?" asked Richard harshly.

If he hadn't been so concerned about the well-being of his child, he would probably have found the expression of the governess hilarious. Her eyes were wide, she was gawking at him.

"Well ?" he insisted, "did you find an appropriate hideout for it ?"

"Indeed," answered the governess with embarrassment.

"Well, let's see if I can find it."

And with that being said, Richard knocked on the door, then entered without waiting for any answer, as he was sure the girl wouldn't have given permission to anyone to come in. 

"Catherine," thundered Turpin's voice, making the little girl shiver.

Her sad eyes looked upon his. He opened his mouth, but he didn't have time to utter any words that the little girls rushed into his arms. Flabbergasted, Turpin didn't know what to do and stayed stunned while Catherine flooded his golden waistcoat with her tears. 

"Come on, come on, calm down," said Richard softly, "let's sit down, yes ?"

He led her towards the huge bed on which were laying Merlin and many other plush animals.

"There's a whole zoo on your bed. Are you aware of that ?" asked playfully Turpin, hoping to ease a bit of the distress of his daughter.

It seemed to work as she giggled discretely. 

"Where do all those animals come from ?" asked curiously Richard.

"The servants," whispered the girl. 

Of course, they were all so fond of their little mistress, and apparently, they knew her better than him as everybody but he knew her love for animals, that they had spent some of their pay into expensive kids' stuff. 

"Do they all have a name ?"

Catherine nodded, introducing him to each of her unanimated friends with enthusiasm, her previous outburst forgotten. Even though Richard was happy to see the mood of the child liven up, he needed to clear up the events of the day. He cursed himself for bringing up the topic when she started to cry with violent sobbing.

"Hush, hush. I'm not scolding you, am I ?" he said, bothered to not know how to talk without causing anguish to his child. 

He, eventually, took his little hand in his, frowning at how thin her little arm was. He could see her bones protruding from her neckline and her shoulders and he was sure that during bath time, her maid could notice the same things with her ribs and knees. 

"You're not angry ?" she asked bashfully.

"No," said Richard.

And it was true. He knew quite well the teacher and how harsh he could be with his pupils. Yet, he was one of the best in his profession and Turpin wanted nothing but the cream of the top for her. He would have a word with him tomorrow, asking him to be more indulgent with the girl. He wouldn't have to ask twice for the man restrained his sternness because no one could match up to the anger of The High Judge Turpin. The Death's Judge. 

"Yet, I would like to be acquainted with someone else," uttered Richard.

Catherine still, understood he was talking about her cat. 

"I put him out," she declared too quickly.

Her alarmed eyes wandered a second too long towards her wardrobe. Richard stood up in a flourish and walked briskly to the piece of furniture.

"NO !" shouted the girl.

"Hush !" prompted Richard.

He sharply opened the door and a little ball of fur ran through the room to find refuge inside a cardboard box that the butler had given to Catherine for her new companion. 

"Well, it seems to already feel at home," stated Richard.

"Please, father, do not kill him," begged Catherine, bursting into tears.

Richard felt his blood ran cold through his whole body. It was the first time she had called him father. And if he was honest with himself, it had made his heart beat faster. 

"Never would I do something like that, Catherine," he said genuinely concerned she could believe him able to do something like that.

Actually, if Richard was totally honest, he could do that without any qualms to blackmail someone or to torture an enemy. But never would he do that to this girl who had become so precious for him in such a short time. Also, for Richard, animals were the sheerest and most beautiful of God's creation. Nothing to do with the mongrel he had to deal with in his day-to-day life. 

"But Harry said..."

"Do not listen to this idiot. Anyway, he doesn't work anymore for us. Rather than being gullible and believing everything everyone's telling you, you should learn to trust me."

She looked down embarrassed but Richard forced her to look at him by lifting her head with the help of one finger under his chin.

"What's the name of this little opportunist ?" he asked, looking with an amused look at the pet tearing apart the old blanket Anne had put into the box.

"Arthur," answered Catherine with a bright smile.

"Arthur ?" questioned Turpin.

"Like the King !"

Obviously. Merlin, Mordred, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan were the names of her plush and now Arthur, thought Richard, suppressing a laugh. 

"Well, Arthur is more than welcome in this house. As long as he doesn't dare come through my office and he doesn't scratch the sofas of the parlor."

Catherine nodded vigorously, her smile and the happiness flickering in her eyes a reward for Richard's tortured soul.

"I've also a present for you. I'm sorry it's not another beast for your zoo."

With that, he handed her the box he had put down on the nightstand. Catherine looked at the box with surprise before opening it with the enthusiasm of a child who wasn't used to getting a gift. Inside was laying the most beautiful doll she had ever seen. A porcelain doll with curly brown hair and the same green eyes as hers, like the one she shared with her mother. The doll's dress was made of real cashmere and embroidered with golden threads. 

"Are you happy ?" asked Turpin with trepidation as he didn't know how to interpret the child's silence. 

"I've never had something as beautiful before," whispered Catherine, not daring to take the doll out of her box, too afraid to damage it.

Richard did it for her, placing the doll among the animals.

"She will soon have her own house. I'm sure Anne and your governess would be more than delighted to help you to install her in her new lodgings. Perhaps you may ask Anne to teach you how to sew so that you could create a whole wardrobe for your doll. I will provide you with all the pieces of furniture you could need for this new entertainment."

The little girl, overwhelmed with joy, didn't know what to say and Richard, as introverted as his daughter on the field of sharing his feelings, told her he would meet her for supper. But while he was ready to leave the room, he heard Catherine's hurried steps running towards him. He didn't have time to turn around when a mass of brown curls threw itself into his arms.

He gently stroked her back with one hand, the other one caressing with as much love as he could dispense her hair. She finally stepped back, diving her green eyes in his hazel one without quivering at the natural toughness his face was constantly bearing. 

"Thank you, father," she whispered quietly, almost as if she was afraid of his reaction, afraid to lose the little affection he seemed disposed to give her.

Richard's face softened, his heart swelling with a feeling he hadn't felt for long. The last time, it was when Elena, his beloved Elena, was in his arms after he had made love to her. Elena had betrayed him when she had left him with no explanation. And now she was no longer of this world. But Catherine, the fruit of their love was there and she wanted nothing more than to love him unconditionally. It was at this moment, when he saw all the gratefulness of his daughter for a mere doll and his permission to let her keep the kitten, that a thought struck him. A man could lose a woman, but never a father could lose his child if he was able to be a good parent for the said child. So, Richard silently swore to himself he would be the best father a girl could hope for. From now on and until death comes to take him away from this world.

"You're welcome, daughter of mine," he said with a smile matching his daughter's one. A Turpin's smile. 

[kpopbestie96]

Looking for you - Bang Chan Cinderella story

Hi lovelies! I know I said I was on a break but I was watching Cinderella with my little cousin when I came up with this short story. So I just wanted to do a quick write, it took me like two hours. So please don't judge it, it was something fun I made because why not. If it's stupid just scroll past it. If you like it...well I hope you do❤❤

Its kind of long, so I separated it by chapters. Hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader

Notes: When you see italicize, bold it means they're speaking in Korean.

Warnings: cussing, multiple parts, very delusional. Please don't take any of it seriously, it's just for fun.

Chapter One:

"There was an error with your ticket, I'm sorry," your friend Sarah said with a pouty face.

"What do you mean??" You panicked as it was you and your two friends Sarah and Melissa on face time the night before going to see Stray Kids in concert. "I already took off work, we have an outfit planned together, we-."

"I know, I'm sorry," Sarah interrupted you as Melissa sat quiet on the other end. "For some reason I'm only seeing two tickets in my Ticketmaster."

"Did you try calling or emailing them??" Your head was thumping, making it hard to think properly.

"I did! And they gave me an excuse, saying they couldn't do anything." You heard her voice go high pitch, an indicator that you know she is lying as you saw Melissa put her head down. Are they seriously lying to me?? You three have been best friends for years and know every little detail about them.

You stared at your outfit that sat on the chair in front of your vanity, waiting to be worn tomorrow. We were all going to match wearing their case 143 outfits but guess that's not happening now.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked as you were too pissed to even look at her through the phone.

"Yup..." Is all you could let out before piercing your lips tightly together, trying to hold yours tears from falling.

"We'll talk to you tomorrow..."

"K...bye." You hung up the phone and let the tears stream down, frustrated and confused. You tossed your phone away from you, couldn't stand to look at it right now.

Why didn't they want me to go? There's no way there could have been a problem with the tickets...this fucking sucks...

A ding went off, grabbing your phone to see Sarah sending your money back since you paid for your half. And we had floor seats too...this whole day is fucking ass.

You turned your body around and stared up to the ceiling, wonder what you could do. You figured if you go on to the websites, tickets will be marked up to a crazy amount. Let me see if there's a person out there selling tickets online... There's always another way.

You went on to Facebook in the Stray Kids group chat that was purposely made for the city you live in, where they were performing. You typed your question, seeing if anyone was selling tickets for tomorrow night. You even posted your question on Twitter as last resort.

A few hours go by while you tried watching TV, reading A03 stories just to past the time away when you finally heard a notification from your phone, quickly checking to see if it was someone from the group.

Gabby: Hi there! I saw your post in the Stray Kids group chat and I actually have an extra ticket if you're willing to sit with me and my friends. We can get a little loud lol

You: Hi! 🙋🏻‍♀️ That's not a problem at all! I'm ready to fan girl! I don't care where we are sitting but how much?

Gabby: so they're $589 because we're on the floor with sound check. Our friend couldn't make it because she got sick and didn't want anyone else to catch the flu. Is that something within your price range?

You: Yes! I can send you the money. But just want to make sure you're a real person. Lol 😅

Gabby: 😂 I understand! Here, we can face time that way I can tell you what time to be there and everything!

You: sounds good!

You fixed your hair a tiny bit, wiped away the tears that were left and saw her using face time through Facebook messenger.

"Hi there!" Gabby waved.

"Hi, thank you so much for reaching out! And I love your hair, you're so pretty!" You complimented her hair that was black with dark blue highlights.

"Of course! And thank you! I got it done just in time for the concert," she laughed. "Here are the tickets, since I bought them." She held up her laptop, showing them.

"Cool, what's your Venmo so I can send the money?" She told you her Venmo as you typed it in, "thanks!"

"Of course! But may I ask why your asking for tickets so late?"

You could tell she was being sincere and you didn't know why but before you knew it, you were explaining everything that happened.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, that's fucking terrible! They're not good friends."

"Yeah...im realizing it now. It's just...they're the ones who got me into K-pop. My other friends could care less about the music."

"Well, consider us your new friends! We're going to have a fun time! I just got your money...so can't wait to see you tomorrow. Lineup to check in is at 10 and sound check is at four. I'll send you my number so you can call me when you get there. We're planning to arrive at like 9:30 since the seats on the floor are assigned."

"Okay, perfect. Sounds great! See you tomorrow morning!"

You hung up and threw your body back on to the bed with a smile on your face, couldn't believe someone so nice reached out to you. And not with any ticket...but floor seats, plus sound check! Great, I'll run into Sarah and Melissa. You rolled your eyes annoyed but knew you were going to ignore them and have the best time of your life.

You looked over at the outfit you had originally planned, making you think of something else.

You got up, threw the outfit into the hamper and searched your closet for a last minute outfit.

You found a thin yellow long sleeve shirt that your mom got you one year and have only worn once. Paired it with a washout denim short skirt that sat on your thighs and found your light brown Dr. Martens boots that made your a bit taller from the thick bottom. I'll add some jewelry in the morning and I'll be good to go. Maybe I can stop at the store in the morning to get a can of blue hairspray to match his from the music video?

You got ready for bed and quickly fell asleep, excited for tomorrow.

Next Chapter >

[kotias]

South Downs cottage - Our Eden

Okay, I've decided to create the cottage that I envision for Aziraphale and Crowley's final retirement at the end of the story.

I have used the Sims 4 game, meaning that I have been a bit limited on a few things, but here it comes, the vision I have for it.

Anyone looking for references, for inspiration, whether it is for drawing or writing, is very welcome to use those pictures.

In a story being worked on together with @daneecastle, called Our Eden, here is the full description:

Our Eden

(2836 words)

It felt like it had been two hundred years in preparation. And in a way, it was; the universe had so kindly presented him to the suicidal girl who had made it all possible, after all. It had so kindly given him a way to help her that would change her so dramatically that the effects of it still rippled through current days. His hands started shaking, and he pretended it was the strain of the walk. He had received the rights to that land in 1884, as Elspeth expired in her farm near Fulking, leaving a will addressed to him. He had spent years and years preparing it, honing it to perfection. He had build a proper garden out of the enormous fields, made it something his. Something theirs. Back then, he thought he may have lost Aziraphale, and yet receiving the land had sparked something new in him. He had spent an ungodly amount of time, only planting his trees, giving them time and space to grow into the luscious beauties they were today. He guided him through what felt almost like a forest, infused with his attentions. The apples had started showing- he grabbed one on the way, gave it to the angel. Anxiety spiked as they approached and were about to come into the final view. He pushed him against a tree, blocking his path, and kissed him, passionately, desperately, with all his love pouring out. He was shuddering. He wanted him to- He kissed him, again and again. The tree above them glowed a golden sheen.

"Cro-" more kissing. "Crowley-" Even more kissing. "Mm!" Aziraphale couldn't break away. So he pushed hard. "CROWLEY! What is going on?"

Crowley pursed his lips. Fuck it. He took his shades off, pushed them down into the pocket of his vest. He had never been good at hiding his emotions, his eyes betrayed them all. His anxiety, mixed with unfathomable excitement, was shining through them, he knew that very well. But Aziraphale knew what taking them off meant; he trusted him, he trusted him entirely, and he wanted him to know. "Just... just a little bit longer." He grabbed his hand again, and they were back on the path. Very quickly afterwards, he opened a little garden door, they passed another set of weeping willows, and there they were. The old farm had been rebuilt entirely into a cottage. A ground floor and a first floor, hidden under a dark tile roof. Maroon bricks, intertwined with regular touches of beige on the rims. Big, white windows all around it, giving more than sufficient lighting to the entire place. Large, teal shutters were attached to the walls. The entire garden around it had been fournished as to compliment its outdoor colours, and deeper into it, an enormous greenhouse had been installed, and was already almost exploding with greeneries. "... well. That's-" He forced himself to breathe. "That would be ours, if... if you would like to."

[...]

"Wanna visit the property properly, angel?" While he was swimming in his relief that his companion loved what he had created, and could stay there for days, he saw the looks he gave to the place, and of course he would be more than happy to show him what he had built for them.

Crowley took the hand and heaved himself up, cradled Aziraphale's hands into his own and kissed them. "Come on." He guided him back through the weeping willows, through the little garden gate, and they lost themselves into the near-forest he had taken the time of erecting for a century and a half. The trees who were welcoming them into the orchard were none other than apple trees of various types, blessing them with reds, greens and yellows. They were sheltered under gigantic mirabelle plum trees whose branches were hugging their little siblings, mixing their tame golden with the reds of their counterparts. The wind -or so Crowley pretended- was passing through the leaves, shaking them slightly as they passed below them. Like a finely-tuned music, nectarine trees, mixing their blonde and crimson colours into perfectly round and juicy fruits. Extending lower on the ground, several mulberry trees were offering a dark shelter from the sun and from any external view.

With a few steps, Crowley leaned down to pass under them, and leaned against the trunk of one of them, pulling Aziraphale against him. He gave him a kiss and brought him out of the leafy shelter, opening his view to a little vineyard he had managed to put together in the last decade. The vines adorned themselves with the blush colours of the setting sun, and opened their arms to the view of Devil's Dyke below. The never-ending greenery, the valley and the hills were battling for a chance to be seen by their two pairs of eyes, demanded the full spotlight and, in doing so, enhanced each other even more. Far into the horizon, beyond the curves of this landscape, glittered the shadow of the sea, reflecting the Heavens above like the Sun dropping into it burned like Hell below.

[...]

In his estimation, fifteen minutes passed before he nudged Aziraphale forward in their tour. They circled the orchard, until they reached the peaches and the pears that were hanging proudly from their trees. He guided him back into the small forest, and quickly, they were entirely covered with foliage above their heads. "I wanted to have more than one originally, but... they just don't know when to stop taking all the space. I thought it safer to just leave the one." This one was a fig tree, whose trunk was large, almost veiny with small craters all over, and its leaves and branches were extending so far beyond it that it had made itself a proper clearing. No other trees were allowed in its protection, and its roots were merrily swimming just below the surface of the ground, peeking through in a few spots. "But, strangely enough..." he brought him to the other side of the trunk and pointed to a large bush whose sharp-looking leaves were climbing up the fig tree like a praying Saint. "It seems to have gotten well acquainted with the strawberries. I don't know how they even appeared here, I for sure didn't plant them, but they've been clinging onto it for about ten years, I'd say." He leaned over the bush and picked one of its fruits, offered it to the angel. "Their taste really is unique, it seems that they've taken a bit of inspiration from the figs above them."

He brought him further into the orchard and back out the other side, and they were back into the garden around the cottage. Bushes full of fruits and vegetable patches were trailing their way around the back fence and contained to a single, rather large area, hidden behind rhododendron flowers. Crowley snapped his fingers for a basket, and did that a second time to collect the never-ending stream of growing zucchinis that were trying very hard to take over the entire area. A few pumpkins were starting to show, and the carrots and potatoes were just about to be ready- only a few additional weeks. Snap. The basket was sent into the kitchen directly. The sun was almost entirely set now, and the light was getting very dim. "If we enter the greenhouse now, I don't think you'll be able to see much. How about we go tomorrow morning, and I show you the house?"

"Yes, I'd like to see the greenhouse with the light, I believe thats where I'll find your best handy work so ..." He gestured toward the cottage. "After you?"

Crowley wrapped his arm around Aziraphale's and led him to the cottage's front door and unlocked it. He couldn't help a deep breath before opening the door, feeling his heart race again. That was it. Everything else would mean nothing if he didn't like the inside. The entry was a short corridor where a thin, dark brown table had been placed for usual end-of-the day clutter; it was open in a way that gave some space for the shoes of the hosts and visitors alike. By its side on the wall, a few hooks had been placed for any coat that needed taking off. It was quite simple, with walls painted yellow and a maroon ceiling. On the left, there was a bathroom as Crowley showed, rather large for the use they may have of it; a toilet, a sink, and, behind a semi-clear curtain, a grand bathtub, with enough space for two people to bathe without feeling the tiniest bit cramped. "I figured that you may appreciate visitors. There are a few families around here, and the kids get easily curious, I'm sure they'll pop by eventually. So... thought I'd furnish it properly, with the toilets and all."

[...]

He opened the door on the other side of the corridor, showing the living room, with one mahogany bookshelf taking over the wall in front of them, entirely empty except for two plants crawling their way up to the ceiling and showing off their vibrant green leaves all around the shelves. On their right was a large, arch-like window that would fully lit up the room during the day, in front of which were two armchairs and a small side table. In front of them, he had placed an off-white oak table that would comfortably host six diners, eight if they were feeling generous, but at the moment, a wooden bench and matching two chairs were surrounding it. On the far left of the room, a large couch and a low table were facing a grand chimney. Just before the couch was an archway that gave a hint of the kitchen hiding behind the wall.

Aziraphale wandered into the room, touching the furniture and looking at all the details of the room, a big smile on his face as he explored the living room. "This is so cozy! I love the chairs." He came to the arm chairs and leaned against one. "Do you prefer to have one or the other? Or is it 'whatever closer'?"

Crowley smiled tenderly at the angel. "You seem to have chosen yours already. Go on, try them out- I think you'll like them."

Aziraphale smiled, glad to see that Crowley noticed which one he favored. He sat in the armchair and leaned into it. It almost felt like he melted into the chair. "It's so comfortable and yet not too much so, I can definitely see myself spending a long time in this chair." He got up and walked over to Crowley, "next room?"

He nodded when it was time to get to the next step, and guided him through the archway and into the kitchen. Compared to the other rooms, it was rather small, but, Crowley thought, rather well furnished. It also was entirely Aziraphale, he hoped. Its soft, pastel colours, mainly beiges and teals, were lighting it up quite nicely, particularly considering that the window in this room was not quite as impressive as the one in the living room. It had a small folding table placed against the nearest wall with two high stools, where his basket full of almost overgrown zucchinis was resting. All over the right corner, facing the door leading to the entry, were a large set of counters and cupboards, an oven and a stove. In one of the cupboards, he had hidden as many kitchen appliances as he could find, enough to make the angel's life easier whatever the task he set himself to do. On the left side of the room was the stone staircase leading them upstairs; before it was a glass door bringing them back outside, behind it was one last door to be opened- and that was the big one. His library.

Aziraphale examined every drawer and cupboard. He pointed out the appliances he knew and questioned and investigated the ones he didn't; he was on an adventure through the kitchen, really getting to know everything. He knew this was his place. He had not really gotten too much into cooking,as he usually only made things for himself, but this time was different. He wasn't just cooking for himself. He was cooking for Crowley too, even if his demon only drank alcohol and coffee; he still got to share that experience. He hurried over to Crowley like a little kid. "Apologies dear, I couldn't help but explore. What's the next room?" He tipped his head ever so slightly in curiosity.

"Oooh, I think you'll like it." He really hoped he would. He took his hand, brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss, looking straight into his eyes. "And please, tell me if you would change anything." He brought him to the door, and opened it. While it had not been filled with books yet, the library was covered, on every wall, from the floor to the ceiling, with book shelves. That was a very round and rather high room, crawling all the way up to the end of the first floor, almost eating into the roof of the cottage, and every bookshelf had been designed to embrace those facts. They were accompanying the walls, hugged them perfectly all the way up to the roof. Three more of them, thinner and shorter, had been placed closer to the middle, creating a visual guide to the large window on the left side, mirroring the one in the living room. In that place, he had installed a wooden resting place, with plenty of cushions and plaids to keep it comfortable. Under that bench, he had created a large space to confine all sorts of blankets, tartan covers, pillows and other comfortable fabrics that would prove incredibly useful during the winter period. Covering the ground, he had chosen soft, dark blue carpeting, and placed more ottomans and footstools in the middle of the room, and a small, low metal table had been fixed on the floor for stability. Aziraphale did love drinking something with his reading, it would be a shame for it to stupidly fall on the floor due to a bad movement making the table tumble. Crowley gave plenty of time to the angel to discover his space, sat on the wooden bench while he was looking around, anxiously watching his reactions.

Aziraphale's reaction was bigger than any of the other rooms he was so overjoyed that his wings burst out and stuck to him as he ran around checkout every detail of his library. He would chatter on and on about what books he wanted to stack where, what he wanted to do with which area during which time of year. He even joked about letting Crowley sleep in a little area for him to cuddle with his Angel when he wanted to read. Then he came running back, floating when he leaped, his wings assisting, then pounced Crowley kissing him. "Thank you! This is absolutely wonderful, my love!"

"Well, as you'd have it, that was the plan-" He kicked into the bench's sides, and a little door to its hidden space opened, revealing the overflow of covers. "I know how much time you'll spend in here, angel, and I'd hate for either of us to get cold. Now, since you're already floating- if you go up to the next floor, you should be able to see your study. I made it so it felt part of the library." It was a little space he had created with a desk full of drawers and a few shelves, usually accessible by going up the stairs, and facing the open space of the library with only a fence separating them. Two windows circled it, giving it a fair bit of light.

Aziraphale paused and looked behind him, and giggled, let his wings vanish. "No, I think I'll go up there the human way. Care to show me?"

[...]

He chortled against his mouth and grabbed his hands, dragged him towards the bedroom's door, opened it with a kick and brought him in. It was a great room, he thought; full of warm colours, albeit on the darker side of the spectrum. The walls were burgundy, with large beige accents all over them, and the lamp above them was adorned with golden colours. On their right, the wall was comprised of a large, retractable door, with large mirrors attached to it, opening to what he knew was an enormous walk-in wardrobe, big enough to host all the clothes they had amassed during the last centuries. There were two little, dark side tables with small lamps attached to them. But the main piece was the bed; perfectly outraged with the tiny thing that Aziraphale dared call his resting place in the bookshop, Crowley had taken it upon himself to make it a proper King size, which had been covered with white and teal bed sheets on which slithered a red bedspread.

[marquisecubey]

I have a new dnd character and I’ve been drawing her so much for the past week uuuuuuhhhhhh anyway here’s sister Frenelle I named her after a type of light fixture

(Congratulations! You have clicked on the Read More and you have unlocked her long ass backstory. Enjoy this thing I sent to my dm, which I can only assume that she must have liked because she gave me a free legendary magic item lmfao. Don’t worry if you’re not up to snuff on Eberron specific lore, I catch you up on the important bits.)

The secret child of an elven nobleman and a human scholar, Frenelle Albright was born in the isolated island nation of Aerenal.

Aerenal was not a kind place to anyone who was not a full-blooded elf, and with very few flesh and blood friends to talk to, her mother's wide collection of books became her dearest companions. From an early age, the doctor saw great intelligence and curiosity in her daughter; the tomes she pulled from her mother’s shelves were leagues above her expected reading level, and by the age of eight, she could even hold entire conversations about complex historical topics.

Humans cannot wander freely across Aerenal with no reason, but it was a vital place when it came to Dr. Albright’s research. The goal of the books she was writing was to help the rest of the world gain a greater understanding of Aereni society, and to hopefully encourage them be less afraid of their open practice of necromancy. But sadly, while it was a fantastic place for a researcher, there were also very few opportunities for her bright young daughter to truly flourish and learn at her own pace. So one day, she had a difficult conversation with her daughter: For the next several years, she would stay on the island, while Frenelle would be moving across the sea to attend a boarding school in Fairhaven on her father’s coin.

Frenelle was terrified at first of being alone. She was already a terribly shy girl by nature, and the new city and climate were overwhelming. For the first month, she hardly spoke to anyone at all, not even to her teachers. However, over the next few months as she properly settled into Fairhaven, she was taken aback by how welcoming the new environment was, especially compared to the coldness of her hometown. People actually wanted to talk to her, and they remembered her name. She had peers that she could talk to about all of the math and magic and history that were bottled up for so long, and when she excelled at a topic, she was rewarded instead of scolded.

The most exciting thing about the academy was that she wasn't even the only half-elf there. Or rather, Khoravar as they called themselves, and as they called her too. The main group of khoravar who took her under their wing were a group of rambunctious kids from House Lyrandar, and it was here that she met her best friend, a boy named Leeko.

Leeko was outgoing, kind, and a bit of a hothead, but he was also passionate and smart in the same way she was. He loved all of the flying machines and massive airships that his family was building, and he talked intensely about how excited he was to pilot them one day, proudly showing off the Dragonmark of the Storm on his right hand. Despite them seeming like total opposites at a glance, the two couldn't have been closer. Every time they met up to try and study for classes, they'd end up talking for hours on end about everything from old magic to new technology. For the first time in her life, Frenelle wasn't alone.

Each year, she would return home to her mother for a couple of weeks, but as she continued to thrive in Fairview, she began to notice that the doctor was growing more isolated and depressed each year back on the island of the dead. Eventually, she was able to convince her mother to leave behind her studies, coming home with her daughter, never to return.

Frenelle quickly rose to become one of the top students in her class, graduating from her boarding school with honours and moving on to study divination magic and history at the University of Wynarn. By then, Leeko had left for the island of Stormhome to train as a pilot, but the two continued to write long, cascading letters to one another every single week.

Her unconventional background gave her a unique perspective when it came to her studies at Wynarn. This was all well and good, until it led to her constantly interrupting professors during lectures to question their biases. This was especially true when it came to the taboo field of necromancy, which she had grown up seeing as a very normal thing in her culture. Eventually, however, she quickly grew wise to the fact that if she wanted to succeed as an academic, she would need to suck up to her less worldly professors every now and again. After all, if she wanted to make her point of view known, she should attempt to hear them out as well.

While working on one of her Master's degrees, Frenelle's work ethic and passion managed to attract the attention of a temple of Aureon in Arcanix, where she was offered a position as a novice. She was hesitant to quit her studies at first, but at the urging of Leeko, who just had gotten a job as an air shuttle pilot at the floating towers, she dropped everything and accepted the massive opportunity.

In fact, the chance to see Leeko again may have been her biggest reason for moving to Arcanix, because it turns out, she had started to develop romantic feelings for him. And, as she would later come to find, he felt the exact same way. She would even learn that he had planned on marrying her, which was no small deal of course. After all, Leeko wasn’t simply just her best friend, he was an heir to House Lyrandar, the Half-Elven dynasty who controlled the rapidly growing industry of air travel across the civilized world, using the Dragonmark of the Storm that ran in their blood.

A proper, pure Dragonmark gives a person tremendous power. Most importantly to those in the twelve Dragonmarked houses, it is a predictable power. However, the same cannot be said of the unpredictable power that results when people from two different houses produce a child. Unpredictability is volatility, and volatility is danger. For the sake and the preservation of society, all marriages and sexual relations between those with different Dragonmarks are strictly prohibited.

Frenelle didn't actually notice her mark for the first few days. She had figured it was some benign skin condition, a small rash around her eye. When it didn't go away, she went to see one of the healers at the temple, who laughed when she said she had no idea what it was. When he realized she was being serious, he explained that she was a foundling, a Dragonmarked person with no previous ties to a house.

He explained that her Dragonmark of Detection was an incredible thing.

With the power of her newly manifested mark, Frenelle became an obvious standout among the rest of the clergy in ways she hadn't even thought were possible. She could look into people's thoughts, see entirely new creatures from beyond the material world. She could protect people from danger.

The royal family of Aundair was in search of a governess for their children, but not just any regular teacher would do. They needed a cleric, a person who could embody the very will of Aureon, the god of magic, knowledge, and the law itself. Their job wouldn't be just to teach, but to physically protect the future of the kingdom. And, who in the world could possibly be better for that than the gifted foundling who just landed on the steps of Arcanix?

Frenelle walked past the cockpit as she boarded the air shuttle. The pilot smiled as he called her name and waved with a childlike excitement. She lowered her head. Words that he’d never get to speak reverberated through her skull. She felt his heart sink like a rock through her own chest. He wanted to marry her.

Vows of celibacy aren't necessarily a requirement for becoming a cleric. However, many choose to take them on in an effort to avoid mortal matters clouding their judgment. It's not as though she had much of a choice in the matter. After all, when the queen who funded your schools and the god who bestowed you these powers give you a call to action, to uphold and protect the law, you listen.

So, as a cleric with a high stakes mission, Frenelle simply chose to take that mission very seriously. And you see, it's actually fine. She's fine. They're fine. It’s fine. He’s fine. They’re fine. They're all fine. She's fine. It’s fine.

[pretentiousgayguyidk]

Hey Hi Hello!

I saw your requests are open so here I am!

I was thinking about Ran, Rindou, Hakkai and Mitsuya with an slavic reader? Male preferably could be gn!

Also could I be the 🥟 anon If your making a list?

Feel free to ignore this!

Pre writing thoughts - Yes!! I absolutely can, I've studied a small amount of Russian and Icelandic - but it probably won't be accurate as I'll have to use Google translate to fill the gaps. I hope you enjoy this 🥟 Anon!

Post writing thoughts- Okay... Well, I wasn't expecting to write so much, so I'll have to make other parts for the other characters 😭 but I hope this is good enough considering how long it took. (Also sorry it wasn't gender neutral, I completely blanked on it)

(Name) stuck out like a sore thumb, having moved to Japan half way into the school year; it wasn't often that foreigners moved to the area. The peculiar student had certainly caught Mitsuya's attention, piquing Takashi's curiosity... Well, (Name)'s caught the eyes of everyone not just Mitsuya.

One thing that stood out was (Name)'s accent, the mix of Japanese words with the addition of deep and throaty annociations strange yet amusing; the rolling of his r's and the emphasis of the ch's and k's pointed towards Slavic origins. That note inspired Mitsuya, and in an attempt to make (Name) more comfortable he started researching traditional Slavic clothing.

"What is that?" Yasuda questioned, her brows furrowed in confusion and slight judgement - as the current piece Mitsuya was working on was out of character for him. The red, black, white, and blue fabric stood out against his usual more casual colour choices - and the sketches of geometric embroidery patterns weren't at all like the usual Kanji he used.

Mitsuya sticks his pencil behind his ear, leaning back in his chair earning satisfying pops from his spine; he had honestly been expecting this question and was expecting it to be asked sooner. He gives Yasuda a tired smile, his arms lax as they hang by his sides.

"It's a uh..." He trails off, unsure how to properly pronounce the word - as it was either Russian or Ukrainian, he couldn't tell the difference even with the little research he did - all he knew was that it was a more traditional Slavic outfit. "Byshibanka?"

He felt a tad guilty, even though the certain Slavic student was nowhere near to hear his horrendous mispronunciation; it felt like a dishonor of sorts. Yasuda raises a brow, her hands on her hips as she looks down at her club captain.

"A what?" She asks, knowing for a fact that - one: Mitsuya mispronounced it - and that two: she would never remember to look it up later when she got home.

Mitsuya sits up, running a hand over his short silver hair; his expression filled with exasperation, not at Yasuda but himself.

"It's this like- traditional Russian or... Whatever... Outfit? I wanted to give it to the new guy." He explains, earning a knowing nod from Yasuda - who knew from her first meeting with Mitsuya that he liked guys... Even if Mitsuya didn't know it himself yet.

"Oh... So you like him?"

Mitsuya shrugs, not getting the implication - as it wasn't exactly the norm for guys to date other guys. He had no idea if he liked the new kid, he just wanted to do something nice... It wasn't like he found (Name) interesting or cute.

"I don't know, he seems like a chill guy - I've never talked to him." The teens nonchalant answer only furthered Yasuda's suspicions, she wasn't going to spell it out for Mitsuya just yet; but she was certainly coming up with a scheme.

"Well, I hope he likes it... And hopefully he's actually Russian... You do know there's other countries like that, right?" She narrows her eyes, doubting that Mitsuya actually did enough research; not surprising, many teenagers weren't all that informed of nations outside of Japan and the major powers.

Takashi's eyes widen, shifting away nervously as he realizes that he completely glossed over the fact that there are other Slavic countries; he didn't bother looking at a map or anything, just looked up some traditional clothing.

"I mean- I..." He trails off, glancing down towards the pile of cloth in front of him; he didn't consider looking beyond Russia, and he didn't even know for a fact that the Vyshyvanka was Russian or not. He shrugs, attempting to wash away his own mild concern over what could be a massive mishap. "I'm sure it'll be fine... Right? Maybe he'll appreciate the sentiment?"

"I'm sure he will... Whatever, I'll leave you to finish your little gift." She states, turning to pay attention to some of the other club members.

Mitsuya felt strangely nervous, holding a box in his lap as he waited for (Name) to enter the school gardens, a place where (Name) often stayed for lunch - since he didn't exactly have many people to talk to. Soon enough, the Slavic man rounded the corner; entering the school gardens, taking his place in the corner with his lunch. (Name) didn't even notice Mitsuya, far too focused on his hunger to realize he wasn't alone like usual.

The Japanese teen finally gains his confidence, standing from his spot on one of the benches. His steps were steady, and his expression showed a lack of interest - or rather calm despite his slight anxiety.

"Hey." Mitsuya calls out casually, causing (Name) to jump as he looks up from his food. It probably wasn't a good idea to interrupt someone in the middle of their lunch, but Mitsuya's mind was oddly scrambled when it came to (Name); his usual calm and collected self thrown out the window.

"Eh? Hi?" (Name) replies, glancing away as he rubs his throat; conscious of how he spoke. His accent has always been a problem, especially with the Japanese language; it's earned more than a few strange looks from locals - as if him being visibly not Japanese wasn't enough to earn strange looks on occasion. Yet, Mitsuya didn't seem to mind his accent, in fact - Mitsuya found it endearing.

"So uh... I just wanted to give this to you." Mitsuya states awkwardly, gesturing down to the thin box in his hands; which had his name written on it, which helped (Name) - as he didn't know Mitsuya's name till reading it on the box.

"Yeah? What's the reason?" The Slavic teen questions, shifting in his seat as he sets aside his lunch box; pulling one leg up in an attempt to seem casual - even though he was very confused and suspicious. Mitsuya glances away nervously, rocking back and forth on his heels; a nervous habit he rarely ever felt the need to do.

"It... It's just a little something I made- I just uh... Wanted to... I don't know-" Mitsuya chokes on his words, feeling his heartbeat speed up as his cheeks warm; he felt strangely embarrassed by his reasoning. "I just wanted to help you feel more welcome."

"Ah... Makes sense... I guess." (Name) mumbles, glancing down to the box as he accepts it; his mind racing for any sort of clue as to what this gift could be.

The silence that falls between them grows more and more awkward and uncomfortable by the minute, neither of them knowing what to say in the moment. Finally, Mitsuya mumbles a small goodbye before turning on his heel to leave the garden.

Once Mitsuya was gone, (Name) hesitantly opened the box - his eyes widening at the sight of familiar clothing. He can't help but smile, setting the lid aside as he runs his hand over the embroidered fabric; he wasn't Ukrainian, but he had childhood friends who were - they always leaned towards traditionalism. They often wore vyshyvankas, and some other clothing that (Name) couldn't remember for the life of him... But either way, the sight of the clothes brought back fond memories.

Lifting the clothing from the box (Name) notices something, there wasn't any sort of tag or label printed onto the fabric... Did Mitsuya make this just for him? There was a note at the bottom of the box, which (Name) quickly turned his attention to.

Hey, I just wanted to make you feel more comfortable and welcome here - we Japanese aren't always the nicest to foreigners or whatever. So I did some research and made you this, I hope you like it.

It was such a simple note, but it made (Name)'s heart skip a beat. It wasn't as if Mitsuya had bought him a gift, which would have been greatly appreciated as well... But the fact that Mitsuya made it - well that was a whole other level.

"I'll have to thank him later..."