#it was a group project but my group did practically nothing and since i came up with everything im just going to keep it
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I hate that if I want people to know my oc lore I have to write it out (except my 2 irl friends on here that I've infodumped to)
Like if I say "right where you left me" by Taylor Swift is really Sarah Maplestone coded, none of you will know who she is. And if I say Rosie and Denise are absolutely more than friends you guys don't know who they are 😭😭
#im planning to type it all out eventually but itll take a while#they're from a performance i made (wrote the script/invented the characters/acted in/directed everything for) for school#it was a group project but my group did practically nothing and since i came up with everything im just going to keep it#bc like im proud of the story and characters and im attached to them#and we've finished our performance so i dont need them to be part of it#im going to post it on ao3 but i might ask if they're okay with it first?#i dont want to and it doesn't feel necessary but I'd feel weird if i didn't#i know if i do ask they'll bitch about me changing stuff bc like they did do that#i might put up a poll or smth#my ocs#oc stuff#oc lore#oc - sarah maplestone#oc - denise dover#oc - rosie applebridge#tagging them bc this isnt the last you'll see of these gals lol
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would you ever do a part 2 of night out in boston? i loved that story so much 🥺
Oh anon, this was the request of my dreams when I first came up with "night out in Boston". So without further ado I present to you 3.2k words of part 2 of exactly that. The most I´ve ever written for a request 😭
After that night out in Boston – William Nylander
a few months later, Toronto
William leaned back on his couch, a half-empty smoothie in one hand, his other hand absently scrolling through his phone. The sound of a game replay hummed from the muted TV across the room, but his attention was elsewhere.
He opened your text thread, one that had grown from a single number shared in Boston to a lifeline across countries. The most recent message: Made it to class, but the subway was unbearable. Remind me again why I didn’t move to Toronto?
He grinned and typed back: you didn’t move because you´re still holding out for a Bruins season ticket deal.
Your reply came less than a minute later: Caught me, I´m loyal to the local teams.
It had been three months since he met you that night in Boston. Three months since he had walked you home, since that moment under your awning when he felt something shift.
He hadn’t experienced it to stick. Not in a cynical way. He just didn’t usually let things linger. Between the constant travel, off-season training, media pressure and internal expectations, most things faded. But this didn’t.
----------------------
Flashback – July, Toronto
The first trip you made to Toronto had been unplanned. You had a few days off, he just returned home from a small training camp in Sweden, and the idea of not seeing each other for another two weeks felt like a bad one.
You booked the flight on impulse and sent him a screenshot with a simple caption: hope you don’t hate surprises.
He didn’t.
He met you at Pearson with messy hair and sunglasses, half-hiding in the crowd. When you saw him, you dropped your carry-on right there on the tile floor and practically ran to him.
He picked you up in a tight hug, laughing into your hair. “You really came.”
“You sound surprised,” you noticed, raising an eyebrow.
“I never thought I´d be the guy happy to see someone at the airport,” he shrugged.
He took your hand like it was second nature and drove you back to his condo, letting you play DJ on his phone as you teased him for the amount of Swedish pop in his playlist.
That weekend was nothing extraordinary, but you remembered every detail. Meeting his dogs and completely falling in love with them the first time they snuggled you just hours after you met them. grocery shopping for ingredients neither of you knew how to use.
Playing video games on his couch until 2 am until you could hardly keep his eyes open. Sleeping in late the next day, wrapped up in each other like it was something you had done a million times, not the first time right then and there.
When you left, he walked you to the gate, pulled his cap down low, and kissed your forehead. “We´re doing this, right?” he questioned after.
“We are,” you replied.
He hadn’t stopped thinking about you since.
---------------------
October, Toronto
He opened your text again and stared at the blinking cursor, then hit the call button instead.
“Hey,” you said, a little breathless.
“Did I catch you mid-coffee run?” he chuckled.
“No, mid-dishwasher loading, which is a great time to talk, honestly.”
He could hear your playlist in the background, some acoustic indie thing you always had on and the faint clinking of dishes.
“I miss you,” he said, without dressing it up.
You paused for a beat. “I miss you too.”
“Come up next weekend? We play our home opener, you should come.”
You sighed. “I have two papers due and a group project where half the group still thinks deadlines are vibes. I don’t think I can.”
He didn’t push it. He never did. “I get it.”
There was another pause, not uncomfortable, but filled with that mutual wanting that didn’t quite match timing.
“We´ll figure it out,” you said, but defeat was coming through between words.
“I know, we always do.”
Still, it was hard sometimes. The calls and the late-night calls made up for a lot, but not everything. He couldn’t reach across the bed and pull you closer. You couldn’t cook pasta side-by-side while making fun of his knife skills. Neither of you could relax into the others comfort when you needed them most.
There were parts of you he still only knew through stories.
But none of that changed how he felt.
------------------
Flashback – August, Toronto
You were in the stands at a charity game in Toronto, sitting with a friend who worked PR for the organizer. You hadn’t told William you were coming. It was your idea of a surprise this time.
He spotted you mid-game, did a visible double-take behind his visor, and nearly missed a pass. You winked.
Afterward, he pulled you aside by the locker room exit, still in partial gear, sweat-soaked, hair sticking to his forehead.
“You planned this?”
You shrugged, smirking. “I like seeing you in your natural habitat.”
He kissed you right there, not caring who saw, it wasn’t the first time he did but it was the first time both of you felt that spark just a little more than that one time he kissed you at his condo. “You drive me nuts.”
“But like, the good kind, right?” you chuckled.
“The best kind.”
That night you sat on his balcony, legs tangled, sharing takeout and beer. You looked over at him, watching the way the city lights danced in his eyes, and asked, “What happens when the season starts?” A necessary conversation.
He didn’t answer right away. He didn’t want to promise something he couldn’t keep, but he also didn’t want you to think he would fade out like a fluke.
“We try and we keep trying.” Was what he settled on.
You nodded, and that was enough.
--------------
November – Boston
He flew down between games, just for two days when they had two days off after and before back-to-back games. Your semester was still brutal, but you had carved out the weekend like a trench in a war zone.
You picked him up from Logan Airport, waiving from your beat-up Sedan, the contrast to his shiny Porsche in Toronto something you noticed but swallowed down. He didn’t care; he climbed in and kissed you before you could even speak.
“Missed that,” you murmured.
He grinned. “So did I. you still going to that bakery you raved about?”
“You mean that one I said would change your life? Obviously.”
The next morning, you took him there. The same tiny corner shop you had told him about the first night you met. He ordered what you told him to: black coffee and a cinnamon roll the size of a baseball glove.
“Okay, yeah,” he admitted after one bite. “This is life changing.”
You beamed.
That afternoon you walked through the Public Garden, hand-in-hand. He wore a hoodie and a beanie low over his brow, but no one stopped him, you didn’t even think anyone really recognized him. Who in their right mind would expect Torontos star winger in Boston in the middle of the season in the first place.
You sat on a bench and watched the ducks, your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you.
“This is my favorite version of us,” you said softly.
“I like it too, but it´s just one version. There´s more to come.” He said, looking down on you with a sweet smile.
-------------------
Flashback, September – Toronto and Boston
The first real fight came on a Tuesday night.
You have had a rough day. One professor chewed out your class over missed deadlines. Your buss broke down. You spilled coffee on your laptop, thankfully not enough to break it. By the time you finally got home, you were exhausted.
He had called during his lunch break, upbeat, talking about a good skate, the new lines his coach was trying. You tried to keep up, but your responses were clipped and distracted.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you lied. “Just tired.”
He didn’t push, until he did. “You seem off. You sure nothing is wrong?”
“Will, not everything is a big thing, okay?” you shot, probably a little too aggressive.
He went quiet. You immediately regretted your tone.
“I didn’t mean-“ you started but he interrupted you half-way through.
“No, it´s fine.” He said, but it wasn’t. The call ended shortly after.
You spent the next two hours replaying the conversation. you texted an apology, and when he didn’t answer right away, your stomach twisted.
The next day he called back.
“I get it,” he said before you could even say hello. “Long distance sucks sometimes.”
“I snapped, I´m sorry.”
“It happens, but let´s not hang up like that again, okay?”
“Deal.”
And it was.
-------------------------
November – Boston
He left early the next morning.
You didn’t cry. Not when he hugged you tight at the terminal. Not when he pressed a kiss to your forehead like he did when you left Toronto months prior, and promised, again, to come back soon.
But your chest hurt on the ride home.
You missed him already. Missed his hoodies on your floor when he carelessly tossed them around when he was too warm. Missed the smell of hos cologne on your pillow. Missed the version of you that only came when he was around. A lighter, calmer, you.
Later, your phone lit up with a picture from the plane: him holding the cinnamon roll, a bite already taken, the caption reading: worth the flight.
You laughed and curled deeper under the blanket. He really couldn’t come back son enough.
----------------------
Flashback, Two weeks ago – Boston & Toronto
You sent him a care package.
Inside were your favorite tea, a sweatshirt he once left behind, and a photo strip from that weekend in Toronto where you had gone to a fair and he had won you a stuffed animal.
You tucked in a handwritten note. Not overly sentimental, just honest:
I don’t know where this thing is going long-term. But I know I feel better when we´re talking, when you´re here, even just on the phone. So, keep showing up. I will too.
He called you that night. “That letter? You´re going to make me soft.”
“Good, you need balance.”
“Don’t ever stop.”
-----------------------
Mid-season
He made team Sweden for the Four Nations Faceoff. You watched the announcement on your laptop during class, subtly fist-pumping under the desk.
He facetimed you that night. “I wish you could come.”
You sighed. “School, I´m sorry.”
He didn’t argue. Just looked at you for a long moment before he said, “There´s always next year.”
One month later – Boston
You met him at a coffee shop near campus. He had surprised you this time, not warning, just a knock on your apartment door and a smirk that told you he was proud of himself.
He took your hand across the table and didn’t let go.
“Five months,” he said.
You blinked. “What?”
“Since we met at that bar in the South End.”
You smiled at the memory. “I remember.”
He glanced down, suddenly nervous, not something you usually experienced from him. “I think I´m in love with you”
You stared, breath caught.
“I mean, I know I am,” he added quickly. “But I didn’t want to freak you out. I just didn’t want to not say it anymore.”
You reached across the table and brushed your thumb along his knuckles. “You´re not freaking me out,” you said. “You´re kind off, exactly right on time, because I´m in love with you too.”
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November, one year later, Toronto
William wasn’t exactly sure when it had shifted.
Maybe it was last spring, when he looked up into the crowd after scoring a goal and instinctively searched for you. Maybe it was this summer, when you visited Sweden and met his family, and his mom whispered after dinner, “She´s got something.”
Or maybe it was now, standing in his kitchen, watching you slice apples into a bowl with your usual distracted focus, your headphones in, singing under your breath like no one else existed.
Because it wasn’t a vacation anymore. It wasn’t just visits.
You lived here now.
After a year of red-eye flights, time-zone juggling in the summer, and blurry goodbyes, you had packed up your apartment in Boston in August and drove up to Toronto with your entire life squeezed into your car.
You didn’t make it a big thing. You didn’t call it moving for him. You were quickly to clarify that it was the right time for you to make a change. New city, new freelance work, new pace. But William knew what it was. You had both chosen this.
And that still stunned him sometimes.
---------------------
Flashback, May – Toronto
It was the middle of the second round; the Leafs were playing Florida.
You were in the city, staying with him for a week after graduation, and the stress of the playoffs was hanging in the air like static.
He was dialed in, quiet, focused, all business from the moment he woke up to the time he passed out watching film.
You tried not to be in the way, but one night, after a brutal loss, he came home past midnight and found you sitting on the balcony, wrapped in his hoodie.
“I´m awake,” you said softly.
He dropped his bad, walked over and collapsed beside you. “This sucks,” he muttered.
You nodded, not pushing advice of silver linings. Just sitting beside him while he unwound. Then, without planning to, you said, “I´ve been thinking about moving here.”
His head snapped around. “What?”
“I mean, not this second. Not even this month. But like soonish?”
His face didn’t change much, but his voice did. “Are you serious?” the hopefulness he spoke with warmed your heart. “I think I am.”
And when he kissed you then, it wasn’t with fireworks or fanfare, it was quiet. It was yes.
------------------
Now, Toronto
You set the bowl of sliced apples on the counter and pulled out one headphone. “You´re staring.”
William smiled from where he was leaning against the fridge. “You make slicing fruit look like science.”
“You say that like it´s a bad thing.”
“It´s cute,” he explained.
You rolled your eyes and popped a slice into your mouth. “Do we have tome for coffee before morning skate?”
He glanced at the clock. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Perfect” you said, already reaching for the mugs.
These mornings had become a kind of ritual. You weren’t working a 9 – 5 and you weren’t in school anymore. Your freelance design work kept you busy but flexible while he was finally learning how to exist outside of his condo and a hotel room.
It wasn’t perfect. His road schedule still sucked, some weeks you barely saw him. you still had to make time to talk through stupid arguments, like who forgot to buy laundry detergent or who left shoes in the hallway, but you were building something.
Not fast but steady.
----------------------
Flashback – Summer in Sweden
You spent three weeks with him in Sweden, splitting time between his place in Stockholm and his parents´ place.
He took you to his favorite lake spot, where the water was freezing and the sun didn’t set until nearly midnight. He cooked you meatballs with way too much pride. You helped his mom hang laundry on the like.
His brother Alex took you to a club once and told William afterward, “She can hold her own.”
You met childhood friends who tried to embarrass him (successfully) and taught you Swedish phrases that he later told you not to repeat.
But the moment you remembered most was a quiet one. You were walking down a path near his parents´ house, the sky streaked with late evening pink, when he reached over and took your hand without looking.
“This feels right,” he mumbled.
You didn’t ask what this meant. You didn’t need to.
-------------------------
Now, Toronto
William had a home game, and you were sitting in your usual spot, second row, just behind the glass near center ice. You came to almost every home game now, when work allowed. You knew his patterns, when he was dialed in, when he was frustrated, when he was just on.
Tonight, he was on.
Two assists, one goal, and a third-period backcheck that had the entire arena on its feet. He didn’t search for you in the crowd, not during the game. But you knew he knew where you were.
Afterward, you waited in the players´ lot, tucked into your coat. He came out in a hoodie and joggers, damp hair under a hat.
“Star performance,” you said as he reached you.
He grinned, cheeks still flushed. “Lucky charm.”
You drove home in comfortable silence. He put your hand on his leg on a red light and didn’t let go.
Later that night, when he was brushing his teeth, you caught your reflection in the mirror besides his, your toothbrush next to his, you lotion besides his cologne.
It was subtle, but the kind of permanence that made you feel grounded.
-------------------
Flashback, December
You two flew to Boston for the holidays. His family was in Sweden, yours were sort of local and he didn’t mind tagging along for your traditions.
He helped your dad shovel the driveway, played cards with your cousins and made your mom laugh by attempting to help with dessert and nearly set the pie on fire.
One Christmas Eve, after everyone had gone to bed, you were curled on the couch with him under a blanket.
“I love your family,” he said.
“They love you too, I don’t think I´ve ever seen my dad this excited after shoveling snow.”
He hesitated; eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I never thought I would have this with someone.”
You turned your head, a quiet laugh leaving your mouth. “What? Burned pie and drunk uncles?”
“No, just…this. Normal. Happy. Like, if I wasn’t a hockey player, if none of that existed, I think I´d still want to be here with you.”
You kissed him slow, deep. “Same.”
----------------
Now, Toronto
It was freezing in the city. You were wrapped up in layers, walking his dogs together. You hadn’t expected to feel so settled in the city this quickly.
You missed Boston sometimes, sure. But this? This was the kind of life you didn’t know you needed.
William walked beside you, gloved hand in yours, the dogs leashes in the other. “What´s your plan today?” he asked.
“Design calls, grocery run. Then I´m all yours.”
“Perfect, I´ve got a lazy day.”
“Those are rare.”
“I know. That’s why I want it with you.”
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May, two years on
You didn’t mark the day with fanfare. No big dinner or dramatic gestures. You had both forgotten until halfway through lunch.
William liked up mid-bite. “Wait. Today is the day.”
You tilted your head. “Today is what?”
He smiled. “The day I saw you at that bar two years ago.”
You laughed. “And walked across the room without a plan.”
“Best move I´ve ever made.”
You toasted with your forks. No big speeches, not pressure. Just smiles between two people in love.
Later that night, your curled up next to him, legs tangled under the blanket. The dogs snored at your feet and a movie played in the background, mostly ignored.
William turned toward you. “I still don’t know how this ends,” he said quietly.
You reached for his hand. “Neither do I, but I like where we are.”
He kissed you softly. “Me too.”
And that was enough.
#william nylander#toronto maple leafs#william nylander imagine#toronto maple leafs imagine#william nylander x reader#nhl imagine
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your move princess - part 1
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, drug use, alcohol use, frat rafe cameron, sorority reader, roofie use, captivity, forced marriage, jealousy, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulation, power struggle
Summary ~ Rafe Cameron has been a thorn in your side since freshman year...cocky, entitled, and impossible to ignore. You’ve always brushed off his flirting as nothing serious. But when your rivalry heats up, you start to see there’s more beneath that smirk … something darker, and far more dangerous than just a crush.
Part 2 The bass from the Sigma Chi party thumped through the night, shaking the cobblestones of Greek Row and announcing to the world that yes, the top fraternity on campus was once again proving they were so original by throwing the same toga-themed party for the fifth time this semester.
You, naturally, weren’t impressed.
Standing at the edge of the Sigmas' massive lawn in your vintage Versace mini dress (because togas were not flattering on anyone), you sipped a sparkling water with lime and surveyed the scene like a queen tolerating the chaos of her court.
"Ugh," you muttered, adjusting your diamond hair clip. "Is it possible for testosterone to actually seep into the air? Because I'm pretty sure I’m inhaling dumb."
"You're not wrong," said Liv, your bestie and co-president of Kappa Kappa Gamma, reapplying her lip gloss. "Rafe Cameron just did a keg stand while someone screamed ‘finance bros rise.’"
Your eyes instinctively flicked toward the porch steps, and - yes. There he was. Toga crooked with his signature smug grin surrounded by a circle of drunk college kids. Rafe Cameron: heir to a coastal real estate empire, Sigma Chi’s golden boy, and the absolute bane of your existence.
He caught you staring.
And smirked.
You rolled your eyes so hard you practically saw your past life. “Of course he saw that. He probably thinks I’m dying to talk to him.”
“You two do kind of give off enemies to lovers energy ,” Liv teased.
You elbow her playfully and shoot her a glossy lip pout “Please. If I wanted a boy with daddy issues and a superiority complex, I’d date my econ TA.”
Liv raised a brow. “Still on that rule?”
"Of course." You gave a light shrug. "College guys are predictable, emotionally stunted, and way too invested in their video game stats. Nothing against video games, but I’d rather go shopping. Dating one feels like signing up for a group project where he forgets your birthday and still asks to borrow your notes."
“So, what - only post-grads and entrepreneurs for you?”
“Exactly,” you said, flipping your hair. “Men who pay their own insurance and don’t ask you to shotgun a beer on the first date.”
But as you made your way inside to find the other girls in your sorority, you felt it, that tingle of electricity in the air. The kind that came from proximity to someone who got under your skin in exactly the right wrong way.
“Princess”, Rafe drawled, stepping in front of you with that infuriating smirk, like temptation wrapped in smugness. (Okay, fine. A hot, smug temptation.) “Didn’t know you were slumming it with the rest of us tonight.”
You hated that he called you Princess. Mostly because it wasn’t your name. But also because it made your stomach flip in a way you’d rather die than admit.
“It’s called charity,” you said sweetly as Liv tried to hide her laugh behind some fake coughs. “I came to check on the less fortunate.”
He chuckled, eyes glittering with mischief. “You know, I always thought you Kappa girls were all sparkle and no spine. But you… you’ve got bite.”
“And you’ve got the IQ of a wet sock, but we can’t all be blessed.”
For a moment, just a flicker, the cocky frat boy mask slipped, and something darker flashed in his eyes. But then he leaned in, way too close, so that his cologne and confidence threatened to melt your gloss.
“Careful, princess,” he murmured. “Keep talking to me like that and I might start thinking you actually like me.”
You took a step back, eyes narrowing. “The day I like you is the day I wear polyester.”
He grinned wider. “Can’t wait.”
You were still glaring when he sauntered away like he’d won something.
“Ugh!” you hissed. “Why is he everywhere? He’s like a walking red flag in khaki shorts.”
Liv grinned beside you. “Yeah, and you love a challenge.”
“I do not,” you lied.
But even as you denied it, your eyes found him again across the crowd.
Rafe Cameron was dangerous. Arrogant. Infuriating.
And for some reason, he’d decided you were his new favourite game.
Too bad for him, you had decided to make him your game, too.
As you met his devilish blue eyes with a glare of your own, you thought of all the sorority sisters you’d comforted, all the nights spent dabbing away mascara-streaked tears because of those same eyes. Rafe Cameron has a body count of broken hearts behind that smirk, and now?
You were going to give the player a taste of his own medicine.
#dark rafe x reader#dark rafe cameron#fraternity rafe cameron#sorority reader#clueless inspired reader#outer banks#greek life#kildare university
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Hello🌝🌝 If it’s okay could I request 🍉 +🍰 with Itoshi Sae for the 'More Than A Married Couple, But Not Lovers' event! Take as much time as you need!!
Thank you if you do this request btw!!!! Also I love your work!!🌝
i'm so sorry that this has taken literal AGES
a sae itoshi watermelon slice...

જ⁀♡⊹。° if i get too close and i'm not how you hoped
♡ a/n — * cue hozier's yell from northern attitude * for my more than a married couple event! (this event is now closed)
♡ word count — 1.1k
♡ content — sae itoshi x gn! reader, sae itoshi x gn! reader, fake dating, slight pining?, angst (for like one section), probably ooc sae
♡ synopsis — living with sae itoshi was easy at first. no arguments, actually, you hardly spoke. you were doing well by his words "don't fall in love with me" ...until you weren't.

The moment your name was called alongside his, a hush fell over the room.
Sae Itoshi.
Your assigned partner for the Marriage Simulation Project.
Your stomach churned as you turned your head toward him, only to find that he was already looking at you—expression unreadable, sharp teal eyes flickering with something you couldn't quite place.
You weren’t close before this. He was the kind of person who made himself difficult to approach, who only spoke when necessary and rarely let anyone in. You’d seen him from a distance—his effortless talent, his cold confidence, his unwillingness to entertain anything that wasn’t soccer.
And now, for the next twelve weeks, you’d be living together as husband and wife.
Sae’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he let out a quiet sigh, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he muttered, voice low enough that only you could hear. “This is just an assignment. Don’t make it into something it’s not.”
You bristled at his tone. “I wasn’t planning to.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, like he didn’t quite believe you. Then, in that same detached voice, he added—
“Don’t fall in love with me.”
Something in your chest twisted, but you ignored it, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms. “As if.”
The words felt easy then, effortless.
But you didn’t know.
You didn’t know how much harder it would be to say that by the time this was over.
Your new reality set in quickly.
Living with Sae was… surprisingly quiet.
He wasn’t messy, nor was he particularly difficult to live with. He didn’t leave his things scattered around or blast music late at night. If anything, he kept mostly to himself—waking up early for practice, coming home late, showering, then scrolling through his phone on the couch before heading to bed.
For the first few days, it felt like you were roommates more than anything else.
Until the first house check.
A group of instructors showed up at your doorstep to evaluate how well you and Sae were settling in. You answered their questions with practiced ease, reciting the basic details of your new married life—who did the chores, how you divided responsibilities, how you got along.
Sae, on the other hand, barely spoke, nodding occasionally or responding with clipped answers.
Then came the unexpected request.
“Since this is a marriage simulation, we want to see some natural affection,” one of the instructors said, a polite but expectant smile on their face. “Even just something small—holding hands, maybe?”
Your breath hitched.
You turned to Sae, half-expecting him to roll his eyes and refuse. But instead, without hesitation, he reached for your hand, his fingers effortlessly slipping through yours.
Your heart stuttered.
He was warm.
His grip was firm, steady.
And the worst part? He didn’t look affected at all.
If anything, he held your hand like it was nothing. Like it didn’t make his pulse quicken the way it did yours.
The instructors smiled in approval. “Good. You two seem to be adjusting well.”
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to smile back.
But long after they left, Sae didn’t pull away.
The silence between you had started to shift.
It wasn’t that Sae had suddenly become affectionate or talkative—far from it. But the space you shared no longer felt as distant.
Small things changed.
You started cooking dinner for two instead of just for yourself, and Sae never complained. He started leaving your favorite snacks on the counter after grocery runs. You’d drape a blanket over him when he dozed off on the couch, and when you woke up late, your phone would always be plugged in, fully charged.
It wasn’t love.
But it was something.
And that something was dangerous.
It happened so naturally, you didn’t realize it until it was too late.
Movie night. A rare evening where neither of you had obligations.
You started on opposite ends of the couch, a respectable distance apart. But somewhere between the first and second movie, your bodies had unconsciously gravitated toward each other.
Sae, tired from practice, had leaned back against the cushions, and at some point, his head ended up resting against your lap.
You froze.
His arm was draped lazily over his stomach, his breath even and steady. His hair, still slightly damp from his shower, brushed against your skin.
“I can move,” he muttered, voice drowsy.
You swallowed, hands gripping the couch cushions beneath you. “You’re fine.”
His body tensed—just for a moment.
Then, slowly, he relaxed.
Minutes passed. The only sounds in the room were the hum of the TV and the faint, steady rhythm of his breathing.
And then, before you could stop yourself, you reached out—fingers brushing lightly through his hair, tucking a stray strand away from his face.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t say anything.
But his fingers twitched slightly against his stomach, like he was resisting the urge to react.
You told yourself it didn’t mean anything.
But a small part of you—the part that had already begun to fall—knew better.
The simulation was ending in two weeks.
You were supposed to feel relieved, but instead, you felt empty.
You stood on the balcony that night, staring at the city lights, heart heavy with everything you couldn't say.
And then the door slid open.
Sae stepped outside, standing beside you, hands in his pockets.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then, quietly—so quietly you almost didn’t hear it—he said,
“I don’t want this to end.”
Your breath hitched.
You turned to him, searching his face, but he was staring straight ahead.
“What?” you whispered.
He clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”
Your chest ached.
“I didn’t,” you lied.
He let out a quiet laugh—a bitter, almost self-deprecating sound.
Then, softly—softer than you’d ever heard him—he said,
“Liar.”
You packed your things and left your shared apartment.
You told yourself it was over. That it was better this way.
But that night, as you stood in your room, your phone buzzed.
A message from Sae.
Come outside.
Your heart pounded as you stepped into the cool night air.
And there he was, hands in his pockets, standing under the streetlight like something out of a dream.
“I changed my mind,” he said, voice steady.
You swallowed. “About what?”
He stepped closer, teal eyes burning into yours.
“About falling in love.”
And just like that, the walls you’d built came crashing down.
Because this wasn’t pretend anymore.
It never had been.
And as he pulled you into his arms, holding you like he was afraid you’d disappear—
You knew, without a doubt, that neither of you ever wanted to let go.

i think i hate this but writing happy stuff for sae is hard :)
i hope you liked it!
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!
#★ · airybcbyy#airy posts#blue lock#bllk#airy answers asks :)#bllk x reader#bllk sae#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#blue lock x reader#blue lock sae#bllk sae itoshi
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Take a Break
It's a rainy day today, and everyone is stuck inside the Galaxy Hall. Good thing Akari has brought in a fun board game for everyone to play! Commander Kamado is not exempt, even if he is buried in paperwork.
Here is my piece for the Hisui Chronicles Zine! It was so much fun getting to write this for the project, and such a huge honor to be invited to do so by the mods! Mods, thank you again so much for having me in the zine, and for all the work you did putting it all together!! It came out fantastic!
If you have the zine, you can find this work within and see its accompanying spot art! They're really fantastic pieces, all drawn by Sensushimi!
You can check out the zine at @hisuizine here on tumblr and on twitter; leftover sales are currently open! :)
OR read it here on AO3!
Enjoy!
–––––
Another flash of lightning glared through the rain-streaked windows to illuminate Kamado’s office. The commander gave no thought to look up from his paperwork as the deep rumble of thunder followed close behind, rolling somewhere above — the storm’s impressive display had been a common occurance all day, and he had grown used to it.
So used to it, in fact, that it felt like it was beginning to overstay its welcome. Having rolled in on dark clouds the night before, the rainfall had long since sufficiently watered the fieldlands. Now, it wasn’t doing much more than swelling the rivers, oversaturating the ground, and unnecessarily pelting Jubilife and its residents.
It certainly halted work for the Galaxy Team’s members today. No surveying, no construction, no farming… Kamado couldn’t send anyone out in these conditions under good conscience, and had dismissed everyone who had reported for work that morning. Efficiency was the pride of any respectable organization, but it meant nothing if safety was not considered. Practically every worker who reported in that morning had been quick to agree to this, but Kamado felt it was more in the interest of wanting to go back to bed and catch a few more hours of sleep.
It wasn’t all bad, though; vicious weather hopefully meant no meetings. No need to settle disagreements between disgruntled villagers, bargain with advantageous Ginkgo members, or play middleman between clashing clan leaders. Kamado did appreciate that it gave him a much-needed chance to finally look over a few backed up work orders, as well as notices for final approval and acknowledgement.
Writing off the current one before him — a notice from the Ginkgo Guild that two supply ships would need the docks next month upon their arrival — and setting it aside, Kamado plucked the next one from off the top of the pile.
Let’s see… A request from Captains Sanqua and Colza, petitioning permission for the construction and agriculture departments to collaborate on new facilities and expansions in the crop fields. That seemed reasonable, what with the recent arrival of four new families to Jubilife—
“ NO! Akari!” A sudden shout downstairs from Rei ripped Kamado’s attention away from the words on the page. “Please don’t, you know it’s the last one I need!”
“Buy it! Buy it! He’s trying to start setting down those housing pieces!” A resounding objection followed, unmistakably from Zisu.
…Ah, yes. The small group of Galaxy Team members who did not run home the moment they had been dismissed.
Even through the barrier of closed office doors and an entire floor between them, the group’s excited shouts still slipped through to reach him. For most of the afternoon, it seemed their commotion and the thunderstorm had been competing to be the loudest disruption in the hall.
And currently, the thunder was not winning.
They were playing that game. The one Akari had saved from a space-time distortion the day before. The one that she had nagged him to play with her and everyone else who had decided to stay at the hall this morning.
She had gushed about how fun it was and how she’d properly teach everyone how to play. And perhaps it really was as enjoyable as she had advertised, what with how spirited everyone was downstairs, still fully engaged in it hours later. But the temptation of partaking in a game was weak in the face of untouched paperwork that had already been neglected.
Kamado huffed to himself at the recollection. That sky-faller was a different breed, braving the unstable pockets to bring back such toys and playthings so regularly. Sometimes, it was cards. Other times, it was a colorful board game with most of its pieces. And occasionally it was something different all together, consisting of game pieces that looked as novel and bizarre as the rules sounded.
Regardless though, it always extracted a very… disruptive energy from anyone who got involved.
Sighing through his nose and reclining back in his chair, Kamado tentatively attempted to redirect his attention back to his paperwork — he had a goal to finish it all by this afternoon, and planned to follow through with that goal. Straightening the paper in his hands, he tentatively leaned back into reading.
Sanqua was requesting approval on preparing land for additional farming plots and another storage shed. There was an attached list of required materials and a projected estimate for—
“Wait! I’ll buy it from you!” Rei’s pleas severed Kamado’s weak thread of concentration before it could even fully recover. “How much do you want for it?”
A quick, coveted second of silent thought before Akari threw her voice into the fray. “Six-hundred!”
“What? No! It says it’s only two-hundred!”
“You asked how much I wanted for it, not how much it costs! Besides, you have like three times the money I do, this is nothing for you!”
“I’ve been saving them for all the houses!”
The sky once again illuminated the office with a flash as the bickering went back and forth. It only seemed to have reached a resolution after it was drowned out by a disruptive roll of thunder. The animated negotiation had reduced back to a level that made it audible yet indecipherable as the rumbling faded, but Kamado didn’t even bother attempting to return his focus to the papers.
“Ooh, Community Chest!” Akari’s voice rose up after a moment of jumbled conversation. “Here, read it!”
A moment of heavy silence, presumably as someone was handed a card to decipher their fate. Kamado’s eyes glanced back down at his paperwork, but he was too busy anticipating the impending shouts to read any of the words.
“I’m being thrown into jail!? ” Laventon’s voice lamented with an anguish that evoked a wave of collective exclamations so loud, Kamado reflexively looked up at his office doors; at this point, it was like they had taken the game up the staircase to continue playing right on the other side!
He could not get any work done like this. Especially if they had somehow even roped the professor of all people into the game — he was one of the few people Kamado had expected to do the same as him, using the day off as an opportunity to barricade himself in his office and tuck into his work uninterrupted. And unfortunately, once Laventon became invested in something, he became almost as enthusiastic as the Pearl Clan warden who had been shouting downstairs quite loudly over the last half an hour.
Heaving himself out of his desk chair and crossing the room with a certain unwillingness, Kamado cracked open one of the heavy office doors and slipped through, heading for the stairs to begin his descent down to the madness below.
––––––––––
“...Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty.” Akari quickly skimmed through the thin paper money before setting it aside, her Cyndaquil observing from her lap all the while. “Paid your bail! Your crimes are forgiven, you’re free to go next turn.”
“Ah yes, the criminal offense of simply picking the wrong card…” Laventon gave his unlucky card one last look before handing it to Akari so she could tuck it away.
“Well look, I’m in there visiting you at least,” Rei pulled his hand out of a bag of snacks to point Laventon towards his metal piece on the board; while the professor’s figure was confined within the barred section of the square, Rei’s was sitting on the safe outer strip labeled ‘just visiting’ . “I’ll be here for you when you’re a free man again.”
“Thank you, my boy, though I sorely needed that two-hundred I was about to collect!”
Rei lit up at this, giving Laventon a look that Akari had learned to be wary of.
“…If I give you three-hundred right now, can you help me bankrupt Akari and get Festival Plaza from her?”
“Hey!” Akari intervened before Laventon could even give his answer. “You can’t do that!”
“Yes I can! Come on, Professor,” Rei flashed him a set of three yellow paper bills, “your new hardened life of crime should make this an easy choice!”
“I’ll take that offer if he doesn’t!” Bagin saw his chance to jump on the offer when Laventon, clearly torn, stalled on his words.
“ No! No one’s getting bribed! Just pass the dice, Professor!” Akari reached across the board to firmly guide Laventon’s hands towards Ingo, who was sitting right next to him. Appearing a little victimized yet relieved at the chance to escape the situation, the professor hastily dropped the dice into Ingo’s waiting hands.
“Ah, my turn has arrived now, I suppose.” Holding the dice close, the warden gently shook them. The uncertainty in his wording gave away his hesitance… which was understandable, given his present situation.
His poor piece, a metal figure representing what Akari had reminded him was a modern-day aether, was stationed right before the only three property squares that Zisu had bought.
With every single property choked with green and red buildings, it was a short but fatal stretch of unforgiving financial hell. A ‘Community Chest’ square separating the second and third tiles was the only safe space between them, but Ingo wasn’t counting on being lucky enough to land on it.
“Get ready to pay up, Ingo.” Zisu leaned forward in anticipation, like a Purugly crouching in the tall grass and waiting for a Starly to turn its back.
“Please allow me to traverse these tracks safely,” Ingo begged the dice before releasing them onto the board. “Five or greater, that’s all I need—”
Every pair of eyes around the board was glued to the two plastic pieces as they rolled, their quiet anticipation being held just long enough to hear the muffled pattering of rain against the hall’s roof. The tumbling pair of dice slowed to a stop, and Ingo’s unfortunate fate was declared as matching pairs of black dots stared back up at him — a double roll amounting to the grand total of four.
“AUGH!” Ingo lamented above the collective shouts that rose up.
“Oooh, so close!” Zisu leaned over towards him, pinching his metal game piece and sliding it right into the hotel-infested deathtrap that was her third property square. Then, the same empty hand extended towards him expectantly. “Alright, Join Avenue’s rent is due. Cough it up!”
“Please, Miss Zisu.” Ingo attempted to appeal to his coworker’s empathy as he began to thumb through the few paper bills he still had; mostly consisting of fifties, it clearly wouldn’t be enough to cover what he owed, judging by the amount of hotels surrounding his piece. “I am unsure if I can even afford such an exorbitant amount!”
“Well, that’s what happens when you blow all your money buying those railways off everyone!” Zisu took a teasing jab at him, but eventually relented to an element of mercy. “Ok, ok, just, hmm… give me everything you have except for one of your tens. You can keep that.”
Normally one might have been devastated at being reduced to only standing ten dollars away from bankruptcy, But Ingo seemed grateful enough given the circumstances.
“Thank you; the leniency is much appreciated.” He deposited the money into Zisu’s waiting hand, and she counted over it briefly. Sitting back, he handed the dice over to Bagin, who seemed a little impatient to roll — though, seeing as how he was only seven squares away from passing ‘Go’ , the impatience was understandable.
“Let’s hope I have better luck than you, warden!” He eagerly clasped his hands around the dice and shook them thoroughly. “Come on, seven!”
Bagin more-so threw the plastic pair of pieces as opposed to simply dropping them. The dice tumbled haphazardly across the board, caring not for the stack of chest cards they bumped into, or Akari’s metal piece that they knocked aside.
Laventon blocked their path at the edge of the game board with a quick hand. A five, and a two — the sum of seven faced up towards the hall’s ceiling.
“No way!” Rei seemed almost accusatory as Bagin slid his coin-shaped game piece over to the ‘Go’ space.
“Show me your sleeves!” Having long grown used to Bagin’s exploitative tendencies, Akari felt similarly; she would not put it past the guy to use weighted dice. And his recent streak of extremely fortunate rolls was not helping his case. “That’s the third time you’ve gotten the exact number you’ve needed!”
“No tricks, I promise; I just got lucky!” Bagin tugged at the sleeves of his corps’ red hanten to prove Akari’s accusation wrong. “And two-hundred Pokédollars richer!”
Plucking two yellow slips of paper money from the bank stash, Akari reached across the board to hand them to Bagin, but not without a tiny, well-hidden hint of skepticism. He tucked them away with the rest of his colorful currency, only adding to the comparatively impressive amount he possessed.
“ And , this means that I now have the most savings!” Bagin turned his attention to Cyllene, who was at his right side. “So it’s my turn to wear the crown—!”
“—Ahem!” A stern voice from above killed whatever insistence was about to ensue.
Every head turned towards the top of the floor’s left staircase. With her back to it, Akari glanced over her shoulder to find herself looking up at someone she thought had long since left the Galaxy Hall and gone home on account of the rain.
A muffled rumble of thunder decided to roll somewhere above them at that moment. It might have been seen as an amusing announcement of his arrival, if it didn’t assume his appearance to be one of admonishment.
Akari bristled into surprised silence, but Zisu had no such qualms, flashing a welcoming smile up at him. “Commander Kamado! Did you hear how much fun we were having, and finally decide to come down and join us?”
“Oh, I did hear,” Kamado’s gaze shifted to the Security Corps’ captain, but then moved to scrutinize the large game board on the floor. “I can hear like I’m down here playing this game myself! I came down only to request you all be conscious of your volume; I am trying to finish up a few more work orders and reports.”
“You’re still working on all that paperwork?” Akari lamented, slumping back to better look at him. “You’ve been up there for hours. Have you taken any breaks yet?”
“Coming down here and requesting less shouting is my break.” Kamado descended the rest of the way down the stairs, looking back over the board again as he stepped closer. Apparent curiosity slowed his inspection the second time around in order to take in the finer details.
His gaze wandered over the tiny metal figures and colored building pieces scattered across the red carpeting. Then to the cups of tea and plates of snack cakes around the board, and the colorful paper money, either haphazardly clumped or neatly stacked in piles by peoples’ sides.
While his expression wasn’t one of disappointment, it wasn’t quite one of approval either. “Perhaps I should ask you all to keep the floor a little neater as well?”
“Can do, if you take a real break and join us!” Akari reached over towards Cyndaquil, Oshawott, and Rowlet to pluck an additional metal piece up for him, as at some point the Pokémon had begun playing with the extra ones. “We could squeeze you in real quick—”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Come on, ” Akari drew out the last word, giving him a look as she held the metal figure up to him. “It’s supposed to be a day off!”
“You have been working up there for a while, Commander.” Sitting between Bagin and Zisu, Cyllene had been partially obscured by the Security Corps’ captain until she leaned forward to speak up. “I would suggest taking a break if you haven’t yet. The work will still be up there when you return. And I am open to assist you tomorrow with what is left, if you would like.”
“Cyllene,” Kamado turned his head to her. He would have otherwise been even more surprised to discover her playing than Laventon, but his subdued tone suggested confusion more than anything. “What is that on your head?”
“It’s a paper crown.” She obliged to his abrupt change of topic, a hand moving up to ensure the shiny red papercraft was not leaning crooked. “Akari’s rules. The player with the largest sum of money wears the crown.”
“...Which is actually mine now,” Bagin insisted so quietly, that it barely reached above a whisper. He at least had enough decency not to extend an expectant hand out for it at that moment.
“But!” Akari interrupted, “If you join now, you’ll get to wear it! Come on, join us!”
“Join us! Join us! Join us!” The emboldening chanting grew more confident as more voices rose up, with Kamado only shaking his head as even the Pokémon began to squeal, squawk, and bark, the commotion riling them up. The surrounding ambience of the rainfall disappeared entirely under their chanting.
Kamado inwardly groaned. Even if he did go back up to his office now, there was no way he’d be able to concentrate on that pile of papers sitting on his desk; he’d entirely lost the streak he had going. And now that he’d fallen out of it, the growing ache in his hands might make it difficult to return to the repetitive motions of signing his name for who-know-how-many more times...
“Alright,” Kamado huffed, stroking his chin as he surveyed the board one last time. Perhaps he should tentatively feel out a compromise. “I will join in for one game. But only one game. How long does a round usually last? Around ten, twenty minutes?” “Well, we’ve been playing the same round since this morning,” Rei mused around a mouthful of snack cake. “So like, four hours? Maybe? But Akari said that’s normal for this game!”
“...I see.” Of course Akari would grab up a game that took a decade to play. “How about this; you all move this to one of the rooms downstairs, keep this mess contained to a table, and control your shouting; once I finish up this last workform I’m in the middle of, then… maybe I’ll come down and join you all.”
“Yes!” The group collectively cheered. Kamado turned to head back up the stairs as excited shouting mixed together with the rustling of paper bills and tumbling game pieces, all in a big effort to collect the game and move it down to the sub-level.
Kamado shook his head as he reentered his office, but there was a certain smile hidden under his mustache. Such an enthusiastic bunch. He dearly appreciated the Galaxy Team and what it had developed into over these past two years, even if it was hard to keep up with sometimes.
#hisuizine#submas#ingo#warden ingo#akari#pokemon akari#rei#pokemon rei#kamado#zisu#cyllene#professor laventon#its a rainy day and everyone gets to play monopoly!!!#this game destroys friendships lol#waywardstationfanfic
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I’ve made up so much Bernard lore in my head so I’m just going to dump it here
so post Louis Grieve in my head Bernard transferred to an all boys boarding school his junior year (someone suggested Brentwood so I’m gonna go w that). his parents sent him there as a bit of a last ditch effort to straighten him out, get up his grades and push him out of his silly habits. this also included them making him buzz off his hair since they deemed his old hair unprofessional.
all of it was a huge blow to Bernard’s already fragile mental health and self esteem so at Brentwood he was kind of a mess. he wasn’t exactly a bad student but the people around him considered him even more of an outsider than he was before at Louis Grieve.
eventually Bernard did find himself with a small group of friends (might further develop them as ocs??) who were much like him outsiders. one of said friends also being the first time he fooled around with a guy, which led to several more though none of it was ever serious.
there was lots of denial at first but by the time his time at Brentwood ended Bernard had accepted himself as queer.
he applied for a few colleges, some outside of Gotham but he ended up settling for GU bc part of his couldnt handle leaving his city behind. he chose a double major because he thought that would make his parents most proud and bc biology and physics were the only subjects he enjoyed.
despite everything seemingly going well for Bernard he felt an emptiness that nothing could fix, that is until he found the Children of Dionysus. despite knowing the risks of joining a cult he did. he was in the cult for roughly eight months before he got kidnapped to get sacrificed.
that was a rough version of what happened in my head. I have some more details that I couldn’t fit smoothly into that word vomit so here’s some more
Bernard came out to his parents his first semester, which they took pretty badly and led him to getting kicked out and having to couch surf for a bit before landing on the apartment he was living in during TD:R.
to keep himself afloat with no support from his parents Bernard worked two jobs, one at a diner around the corner of his apartment and the other at a coffee shop closer to GU.
at Brentwood Bernard did a lot of experimental stuff with his appearance ranging from spiking his hair after it had grown out a bit to getting his ears pierced multiple times. a tongue piercing came along somewhere in his time at the cult and Bernard genuinely doesn’t remember getting it.
during junior and senior year Bernard joined the basketball team. he was surprisingly good considering he had never showed any interest in the sport and wasn’t particularly athletic before then. basketball somehow also led him to training himself in martial arts.
since I do hc the Children of Dionysus to have some more Dionysian practices I think Bernard developed both a distaste for wine and eating raw meat (omophagia).
Bernard has been refusing to get drastic hair cuts after the buzz cut and is unlikely to get one any time soon. he’s been taking kitchen scissors to his hair and freestyling it if he feels it needs more shape.
though he’s been out for a while Bernard hasn’t actually dated anyone long term before Tim. most people he’s been with were flings or were blocked after a few dates.
the way Bernard got into contact with the cult is through one of his high school classmates, who he’d seen talk about the ways that joining it had improved their life and how they were much more enlightened. he due to his circumstances was an easy victim after his initial skepticism
there’s just a lot of permanent scarring due to the cult, but Bernard doesn’t bother covering them up with make up or clothes. at least not post getting rescued.
Bernard actually goes to therapy after the cult and was also diagnosed with autism (let me project a teeny bit). it helped him make more sense of his life and gave him more direction.
his cooking passion came from his early childhood, being dimmed out in middle school and only returning after high school. he mostly enjoys writing his own recipes and experimenting with taste. there was ofc the added challenge of budget, but it was one of the few things that made him happy.
his conspiracy theorist side mostly calmed down until he was thrust back into it when he started dating Tim. this was due to odd behavior from Tim and until Bernard found out he was RR (which really didn’t take that long) he was balls deep on conspiracy blogs and threads. he didn’t really quite after putting the RR pieces together though, bc he enjoyed being able to subtly help Tim with his cases.
due to the two jobs and double major previously mentioned Bernard has a terrible sleeping schedule. he regularly stays up past three only to have a morning shift that starts at seven.
gonna quite rambling for now lol, might edit this post to add more in the morning but I’m sick of typing. sorry if it’s a lot, I just think abt him a lot……. yea..
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Rabbit Restoration Project: |20|
"Oh... oh, God..." Groaning, your eyes widened in shock, you felt yourself scooting backwards--away from where the rabbit currently sat.
Slowly, both of Springtrap's hands raised from beside himself, being placed at both the right and the left of the upper mask. He was muttering about something.
Forcing your eyes to completely turn the other way, you shut them after a second or two. Oh, God. Oh, God... no wonder why he has that smell. Oh...
Springtrap still seemed to be muttering about something--you thought that the tone sounded rather annoyed--but the eyes remained closed. I can't see that again...
Please tell me he didn't know about that. Please tell me he didn't know. Your body shuddered. But how wouldn't he know?! He'd have to... how would he not know? How would he not feel it?
"How was... how did I never know about that?! How did I-I not notice anything??" Your voice came out as a low, stressed whisper.
"You wouldn't be the first not to notice." Springtrap's voice filled the room. He sounded so calm. It sounded as if he were talking about something far less horrifying compared to your discovery.
He almost sounded amused, too. As if, rather than showing something to you, the rabbit had simply been waiting for you to spot certain things on the first day.
"The little group who got me out of that wretched room failed to spot anything, but they certainly smelled something." Springtrap snorted, and a mechanical whirring followed him. You imagined him shrugging.
"Then I was brought to the attraction, and it was rather the same thing, really." He added, humming. "They were all just finally so happy to have something for the building."
When the footsteps began, that was when your eyes snapped back open, and you forced a glance to check at the decaying animatronic suit.
Springtrap was in the middle of a few, slow steps towards you, before they abruptly came to a halt, and he practically froze--hunched over, just a tiny bit away from you. If he reached out, he could touch you.
Whatever was just happening... it's still probably messing with Springtrap right now. A calmer thought--amidst the more frantic ones, pushed its way through--but it was barely heard.
Fortunately, when meeting the rabbit's face--that was just it. You saw the face of an animatronic rabbit, rather than the face of a man. He had successfully pulled it back into place.
"Who... who is that?!" Hearing the words, Springtrap let out a scoff that almost sounded amused, and began to inch closer to your current position, deciding that he wasn't close enough.
"Me." He stated blankly, before a hand slowly began to extend in front of your fallen form. "I thought that would have been quite obvious, really. What did you imagine?"
Rather than taking the offered hand, with a shaky breath, you pulled yourself up--legs almost beginning to feel as shaky as that--as you took the time to take a couple of steps backwards.
In response, Springtrap's hand immediately dropped, and he huffed, almost seeming a little annoyed by that. Is he wanting me to act calmer about that?? It's... It's not what I ever expected!
"I... I don't know!" The response spilled out--and, raising a hand, you began to pull at a few loose strands of hair. "Why... why would I ever think about that? I just.. I just learned about this..."
Creeping closer to the front of your mind, there was a flash of the mask off--and you gagged, hands dropping from your hair, and to your mouth--but with a hard swallow, nothing escaped.
It's not like I would have an immediate answer, either. Who would? "Since... since the day I found you," You spoke a little slower, beginning to fidget. "I only assumed that you were just a robot!"
The rabbit hummed thoughtfully. "Really, now? You could have had me fooled..." Playfully, his head tilted to the side--not too different than a curious, wild animal--and he chuckled.
"Nothing truly clued you in, did it? None of my actions... not even the heartbeat, which... it had surprised me, too." Springtrap held his hands out. "I quite believed that it had long since stopped working."
Your head fell in-between your gloved hands. "Of course, I wondered about all of that! But you... I-I just thought it was some general problems, and... and then you told me that was the way the suit was built!"
"And you really believed that?" He almost sounded impressed--something relating to himself--rather than anything about you, it seemed.
"Yes, because that's what you told me! I didn't know what else to think!" I've been around him for a few days... I guess things looked a little off. But I still wouldn't have thought that that was underneath!
Lifting your gaze back up, and gloved hands dropping to the side, you took in a deep breath. "Who are you?"
"Springtrap." The answer was instant, leaving the rabbit's mouth before you even completed asking him the question.
"That's... what they named you when arriving at the attraction." You took a few steps back again--but they were rather slow, as the risk of falling or, at the very least, tripping, while not looking, was there.
"Let me try again. Let me try this again, alright?" You gestured vaguely to the rabbit. "Who were you? You were obviously human, but..."
Springtrap snorted. "That is something that doesn't matter. It hasn't mattered in such a long, long time."
Silence.
Opening your mouth three times in a row, the words weren't able to find their way out. Unsatisfied, shocked, and stressed, your mouth closed again, and your feet started to pace.
Springtrap remained in the same spot, simply watching you go back and forth, hands beginning to pull at strands of hair again--and he didn't bother to interrupt the process.
What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?! If I hadn't started to help him up, how much longer would it have been before I finally figured out? Your pace quickened. Oh...
Would he have eventually decided to tell me? How would that even possibly go? Your eyes flickered towards the rabbit briefly. Would I have just figured it out while working on him?
Come to think about it, who would have figured it out much sooner?? Lots of others, probably... Springtrap cleared his throat in an attempt to get your attention. "Are you still there?"
Although you were still in the middle of pacing, and thoughts continued pouring in, your head spun around to meet the rabbit, a frown not leaving your face. I'm not sure what I can do...
"I can't... I can't keep working on you like that..." The words slipped out, but you felt yourself mentally facepalming. There's so much more to worry about, why did I say that...?
For what was a brief moment--about two seconds, Springtrap seemed to think about something, before offering his idea. "Perhaps we could remove all of what is left."
You shuddered. "There... there's no that I'm going to go and do that!"
"I assumed that was what your decision would ultimately be." Springtrap simply commented, shrugging. "Which is why I will go and do it myself."
Slowly, you blinked at him. "There's... you can't possibly remove anything by yourself. Y-You probably can't even get some bits removed at all, even with my help..."
"That's what you think." He hummed.
"Besides," You added, "Isn't removing all of... that going to hurt you? Even if it doesn't, what if it still causes something to-"
Springtrap held out a hand to stop you in your tracks. "There's not quite a reason to worry... but you seemingly still will be doing that." He shrugged. "It will be fine, but it will take a while."
You swallowed. "Of course it would..."
"Now, where are your trash bags?" Springtrap glanced around once or twice, before briefly catching the sight of a pointing finger--and he hummed in appreciation.
Watching the rabbit move away, and head for the kitchen, another question forced its way out of your mouth. "Is that... is that everything you'll need for this?"
"We'll see."
You shut your eyes. "Just... just deal with all of this in the garage, okay? Keep the doors shut."
.
..
...
Three hours. Three hours had passed since Springtrap had left for the garage, about three trash bags in hand--you weren't sure how many he had needed, and his pick had been random.
You weren't all that certain if he was finished yet, he hadn't exactly been seen since then. But, then again, you were keeping yourself completely in the bedroom...
If Springtrap had already finished up some time ago, then perhaps he just wasn't wanting to bother you for a while? That sounded nice, admittedly.
When he had initially left, you'd cleaned up the vomit that had still been on the floor--before briefly considering to eat something--only to immediately hurry off into your room.
Having wanted to try and keep the distressed thoughts about the rabbit rather low, you tried to find a way to distract yourself--such as listening to music. It worked... not amazingly.
Sighing, you plopped onto the other side of the bed. Earlier... he seemed so upset about that diner event. Unless he just generally cares...
There was a knock against the door that immediately caused you to sit up. A second later, the door was pushed open, revealing Springtrap--holding a few, tied up trash bags.
You didn't bother to stare at those for very long--instead, gaze lifting, you met the rabbit's eyes. I thought those might have been a part of the other... was I wrong?
"Did it hurt?"
No answer.
And when the rabbit didn't answer, you simply continued. "I'm not going to keep those trash bags here, Springtrap. We need to take them somewhere else."
Springtrap chuckled. "Why not throw the bags into that lady's yard?"
"Don't... don't joke right now."
"Who says I am?" Springtrap hummed.
You groaned, and started to fall back down again.
The rabbit rolled his eyes. "Fine, then. Just the dump, perhaps? Would that work?"
"The... the dump?" You questioned.
"Well, I don't suppose you have any other ideas, do you, now?" Springtrap stared, before glancing behind himself, ears slowly twiching.
You sighed. "No." This is all too stressful...
"Dump it is, then." Springtrap nodded. "Although, I must say... I don't exactly happen to know where it is."
Groaning, you released a new, shaky sigh. "Okay. Okay, okay. I'll drive you."
@spaciebabie @mcfries123 @ravenmccookies
#Rabbit Restoration Project (R.R.P)#Fic#Not a quote#FNaF#Springtrap#Y/N#Chapter 20#Styx's Writing#Save tag#Springtrap x Y/N#Springtrap x Reader
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Nurse Sammy (Sam Golbach X Skater! Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Sam and Colby & Co
Requested: Nope :) but requests are open for Sam now
Warnings: Blood (lots of it), broken bones, hospitals.
POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)
W.C. 2439
Summary: Maybe skating in the rain isn't a good idea.
Join my 1K Celly
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST

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“It’s just a quick session to practice before the competition, Sam,” You argued as you were heading out the door with your board. You were preparing for the Olympics given that you were on Team USA and you competed there last time. You took home the bronze, but this year, you were dead set on getting the gold or at least silver. You only missed out on the silver by the slightest margin, so you were determined to be as close to perfect as humanly possible. Sam, your boyfriend, knew this, and he always supported you. However, today, it looked like it would rain soon, and he voiced his concerns as you were about to leave. “Sam, I’ll go to a different bowl if that’ll make you feel better. There’s this old skatepark just outside the city that’s practically abandoned I could go to.”
“If you promise to be back if it starts raining,” Sam sighs from his spot in the kitchen. Colby had just shown up, and they were going to be discussing their next string of videos. That’s the main reason you decided to go practice. They really needed to sort it out, and all of your projects were already done. Plus, there is no harm in overpreporation. “Just please promise to be careful. I know we’re in the middle of a desert, but when it rains, it pours.”
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Weatherman, I hear you,” You teased as you walked up behind him to grab a water and a small snack from the fridge. Then, you leaned up to press a short kiss to his cheek before heading out of the kitchen, purposely bumping into Colby’s shoulder in the process. “Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone. I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”
You jumped in your car, threw your stuff into the passenger side, and turned on the car. You set up the music, knowing it was going to take a while to get out to the skate park and you needed good tunes to be able to sit through the drive.
Inside the house, your boyfriend and his best friend were joking about how you could not sit still for too long, and you always had to do something. They only needed to situate a few things before they were able to call it a day and just hang out. They decided to film a couple of reaction videos to get ahead of schedule since they were going on a trip soon.
The drive out to the park did not take nearly as long as you thought. Maybe it was because there was a noticeable lack of cars on the road and very grey-looking clouds in the sky. It looked almost nighttime with how dark the clouds were. From what you could remember, the park still had functional lights, so you hoped that was still the case.
Unfortunately, it was not, but it was times like this when you were happy you had a light in your truck. It was a portable light usually meant for camping, but it came in handy when the park was so dark.
The park was empty so that played to your advantage. The ground was slightly wet, so you knew that it had rained there earlier. There were not any puddles. There were just a couple of noticeable wet spots in the concrete. The bowl itself did not have any standing water, so you went ahead and set up the light and your phone to record your practice. You had your radio from your car playing music since you were alone, and it was one of the things you always did to seem like you were with a group.
You got on a roll, going straight from a few warm-up tricks before starting to go into the tricks for your routine. It started to lightly drizzle at one point, but it was not too bad. You love the rain, and you have skated in the rain before. There was nothing wrong.
You were in your element. The rain just added a nice ambiance, and it made you feel calm as you continued practicing. At one point, you were getting ready to drop into the bowl when you realized the ledge was a little too slippery, and instead of stepping back, you accidentally fell into the bowl. Your arm crashed against the ledge before you slid all the way down and stopped in the middle of a puddle.
You realized it had started raining harder now, and when you moved to get up, you noticed a slight red tint to the water. Like everything was in slow motion, you turned your head and saw your arm bent at a weird angle with a large gash along the side of it.
You cursed to yourself, not really feeling the pain yet, as you pushed yourself up with your other hand. You grabbed your board and threw it up out of the bowl as you tried to run up the side, barely landing at the edge.
You got a better look at your arm in the light, concluding it was definitely broken. As if it could not get any worse, it was your right arm, and your car was a manual. You could not drive yourself to the hospital, so you needed to call someone to get you.
Thinking the obvious was Sam, but instead, you dialed Colby’s number and put it on speaker as you slowly wrapped everything up and took the light to your car first. He did not answer the first time, so you set your phone in your car as you finished grabbing your board and putting the light and board in the trunk before sitting in the driver’s seat. You did not plan on trying to drive, so you dialed his number one more time.
This time, he answered, “Hey, what’s up?”
“Do you think you could come pick me up?” You asked, not wanting to reveal why, but the tone of voice you used conveyed that you could not drive. You were starting to get lightheaded and the adrenaline was wearing off at a rapid rate.
“Yeah, any reason why I need to pick you up and not Sam?” He asked, and you could hear him grabbing his keys. What you did not hear was Colby gesturing for Sam to follow him as they both climbed into his car.
“I may have done something, and Sam gets squeamish around blood,” You chuckled halfheartedly as you leaned your head back and closed your eyes.
“Blood?! What did you do?” Sam could not help himself from shouting as Colby got on the interstate, following the GPS to your location.
“So much for not telling Sam,” You mumbled to yourself, but they heard it loud and clear, “Sam, I had a small fall. It happens, but it’s my right arm, and I can’t drive without my right arm.”
They both took note of how weak you sounded, glancing briefly at each other in concern. Finally, Sam asked, “Could we move this to FaceTime?” You did not have time to answer as a FaceTime call from Colby came in. You accepted it and propped your phone up on the dash weakly, making sure your arm was not in the shot. You leaned your head back but looked down as you waited for the phone to connect. It took a second, but when it did, you were met with Sam’s concerned face. “You look really pale. Are you sure it was a small injury?”
“I don’t think you want me to answer that, Sammy,” You said in a soft tone and a small smile, trying to play it off. You never called him ‘Sammy’ unless something was really wrong. The last time you called him ‘Sammy,’ it turned out you had appendicitis and needed to go in for emergency surgery. He immediately caught on as well.
“Can I see it?” Sam said, not wanting to push too hard, but also needing to see just how bad it was.
“Sammy, trust me,” You laughed as you lifted your head to look straight at the screen. “You don’t want to see it. If you really want to see it, which I’m telling you you don’t, you can see it when you get here.”
“Well, it’s my lucky day because we’re just about to pull into the parking lot,” Sam teased lightheartedly as you noticed the headlights of Colby’s car fill your view. That’s when you noticed how badly it was raining now. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to skate in the rain. You truly learned your lesson.
“Sam, you know it is not a good idea to go up to them if there is blood,” Colby reasoned as he stopped Sam from climbing out of the car. “The last thing they need is you freaking out if it is something bad. Let me go first, and I’ll bring you over if I think you can handle it.”
“I trust you,” Sam caved as he stayed in the car and hid his face in his hands while Colby walked over to your car. Sam was a nervous wreck, but you picked up on his anxiousness like a sponge. That would not help your situation if he started freaking out.
Colby walked up to your driver’s side door, and he did not even need to open the door. You had the light on inside, and he could clearly see the amount of blood that had accumulated on your shirt and pants and the odd bend of your arm. Immediately, he turned back to Sam in his car and gestured for Sam to get in the driver’s seat. Sam did so without hesitation but rolled the passenger window down to ask what was going on.
“Sam, you’re gonna follow us, and you’re not gonna ask any questions,” Colby instructed, causing Sam to be even more worried as he turned the car back on. Colby went back to your car and helped you move into the passenger seat all while obstructing Sam’s view of you. Up close, it looked even worse.
The ride to the nearest hospital was not long, but to each of you, it felt like years. Your arm was pulsing so much, you thought there was a bass sound system in it. Colby was trying to focus on driving through the rain while keeping you awake. Sam was just numb. There was no way this was a small injury based purely on Colby’s reaction.
When you finally got to the hospital, Sam wasted no time in parking and running up you the passenger side. Colby jumped between him and the door, for obvious reasons, but Sam could not see it that way.
“Colby, please,” Sam pleaded trying to see inside. He was barely holding it together, and he did not even see the extent of the injury. He just knew it was base based on Colby and your reactions alone. “I need to see them.”
“Sammy, if you really want to see it, then help me out,” You sighed as you pushed the door open with your left arm. The door was a lot heavier because Colby was leaning on it, but when he felt the door start moving, he backed off. As soon as Sam’s eyes landed on the blood on your shirt, he immediately turned around. He did not even see your arm before retreating back to Colby’s car. “That’s what I thought. Now, Colby, can you help me, please?”
You have always hated hospitals. The smell, the doctors not taking you seriously, the silence, and the general lack of color. This was the emergency room, so there was more to look at honestly, and it was not pin-silent. If anything, it was loud and obnoxious.
Thankfully, you were taken into one of the trauma bays quickly, so they could get the blood to stop. Colby went to get Sam, so they could wait in the waiting room for the all-clear. The blood took a minute to stop because the bone kept moving, causing it to not have the chance to clot. The doctors decided you needed to go into surgery to set the bone straight before going into a cast, so they updated Sam and Colby as they sent you off.
You woke up in a hospital room the next day, at least you assumed as much. The sun was out, so you knew a considerable amount of time had passed since the storm. You looked down at your arm and found it already encased in a thick plaster. To the left side, Sam laid asleep with his head on the bed as he held your hand. You gently shook your arm to wake him up, but as it turns out, he was not asleep, just laying with his eyes closed. His eyes snapped open immediately to meet yours as he did a once over to make sure you were still okay.
“I think that’s the last time I try skating in the rain,” you tried to joke, still heavily drowsy. This made Sam smile as he pulled your entwined hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “And it looks like no Paris trip for us this Summer.”
“We’ll go some other time,” he sympathized as one of his hands moved up to fix your hair. It was flying in all different directions, and he just needed to be doing something with his hands. When he finished, he moved his hand to cup your face, causing you to lean into it and close your eyes. Honestly, you could fall back to sleep like this. He waited a few beats before whispering, “Are you feeling better?”
“Tired and probably on pain meds,” You whispered back, opening your eyes to look at him. “Nothing hurts if that’s what you're asking. I am hungry though, and I want to go home.”
“I’ll call the doctor in, and we can stop and get your favorite food on the way home,” He offered as he stood up, kissed your forehead, and moved to press the button. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“You say that like I didn't break my arm the first time we met,” You laughed as you waited for the doctor or nurse to come in. “I’m just accident-prone. You should know this by now.”
“Well, this time, I plan to be your personal nurse, so get ready because I’m not letting you out of my sights until this cast comes off.”
“Nurse Sammy to the rescue.”
~~~~~
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#sam golbach x reader#sam golbach#sam x reader#sam x you#sam golbach x you#sam and colby#colby brock#youtuber oneshot#youtube#youtuber x reader#bad268#ship268#thing268
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soo... luca consistently refers to the lady in his pov chapters. his people's religion/spiritual beliefs/tendency towards human sacrifice seems to play a big part in branding them less than human by their enemies. i'm wondering whether luca somehow resisted being brainwashed out of the religion he grew up with, or did they just... introduce him to ganymene and called it a day, without bothering to figure out what exactly he might already believe in? it sticks out as very noteworthy considering how thoroughly most of his culture was taken from him. i always thought luca's little patchwork belief system was interesting (the lady as the true goddess in his mind who would not help him and ganymene as the guy painted on the wall of the training house who's probably more inclined to listen to his prayers... at least that's what it read like to me) and i wonder whether we'll get more insight into it. i've always assumed that he came to the conclusion that the lady abandoned him on his own, but maybe that's what he was told and it just... didn't stop him believing in her? then again, solasans don't seem to know about her to begin with and probably wouldn't care to. i've been thinking about this for a while, haha - have a nice day!
oh, I love this question.
so, the Solasan empire has no interest in religious conversion. there isn't even an official religious infrastructure within Solas, because Roland the Conqueror liquidated it in order to fund his wars abroad.
Toby and Tybalt discuss this in Part II Ch17:
“Well, my great-grandfather Roland got rid of all the priests, you see. And took their property and gave it to the Midland lords, and melted down all their gold and gave it to the lords of Lyonesse. And the priests had been around for positively ages. Much longer than three hundred years. But when Roland got rid of them the common people stood about amazed and said to each other, oh, what a thing, now we don’t need to give all our money to the temples, we can give it to the Crown instead.”
Tybalt looked like he was struggling with several responses to this. He settled on “Some commoners do still make offerings at the remaining temples, you know, even if there aren’t any priests to bless them for it.”
Toby waved this away.
“Silly peasant superstition. Anyway, my brothers say that people of quality don’t give the old rituals the least bit of consideration.
as usual, Toby doesn't get it quite right. the Midland lords were given property previously held by the temples in order to ensure their fealty and cooperation; ditto the lords of Lyonesse with the fungible assets. of course, a lot of that gold went into building up the army and navy and equipping and provisioning them during the takeover of Kel -- a massive one-time cash infusion that future kings would never be able to match (though they've tried by raising taxes at an ever-increasing rate, leading to a corresponding increase in poverty, debt slavery, and general resentment of the crown).
since priesthood as a caste was abolished, religion in Solas has become completely decentralized. the few temples which remain are run by the devout. belief in the gods remains widespread, however, particularly among the lower classes.
so that's Solas. let's talk about Kel. you're absolutely right that their zealous religiosity and practices like human sacrifice are perceived as primitive and even subhuman in Solas. at the same time, Solasans just don't care about converting the barbarians. it isn't part of their imperial project for the simple reason that they get nothing out of it. Solas isn't really interested in "civilizing" the barbarians, in part because they see the barbarians as inherently and irreparably uncivilized. they're just interested in exploiting barbarian land and labor. sure, the Solasan occupiers outlawed some traditional practices, but they aren't motivated by religious or humanitarian concerns. they just want to weaken group identity and, in the case of human sacrifice, prevent the deaths of potentially productive members of the workforce.
this is all to say that there has never been a concerted effort on the part of Luca's captors to stamp out his faith in the Lady. he can have whatever silly little beliefs he likes as long as they don't impede his usefulness.
at the same time, Luca's own experience of his faith has been shifted and reshaped by trauma. he believes in the Lady, but also thinks himself no longer worthy of her attention or protection. the Kel have a warrior culture; the Lady is a warrior goddess. Luca's entire existence in Solas is defined by conditions of defeat and subjugation. the Lady is still the goddess, but she can no longer be his goddess. Ganymene fills that gap. he's a more immediate, accessible divine presence, and having himself been mortal and victimized, he can understand Luca, accept him, and watch out for him. the Lady is all-powerful, but remote; Ganymene is local, amicable, and welcoming. Luca worships both because each offers something he badly needs (Ganymene, acceptance and hope in the present; the Lady, connection to his past and his people). it's a highly syncretic belief system that has helped keep him alive.
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Okay listen, I have no art skill (and far too many projects to start a new one) BUT AHHH I CANT HELP MYSELF! With DnD, I can pretend by making worlds or different character sheet and I want to do the same with Warhammer 40 while lacking the skill to do so
Also, while I normally dislike OCs as a concept, a setting like 40k is kinda built around it, my OC can be absolutely pivotal to this major battle… also completely irrelevant cause the Imperium already lost like, thirty other planets cause some bureaucrat misfiled a form 3 centuries ago
Anyways! Meet my OC!
The Noble House of Bicarmion was one of a dozen Knightly houses of located on the planet of Caliban, although the family’s Knight had a few… quirks. Despite being in perfect combat condition, the Knight had two machine spirits installed on it. Initially, this was a deteiment as not only did a pilot need to fight to maintain control, there were two possible options for causing braindeath instead of one. While the Bicarmions were infamous for their much higher rate of failure when it came to Knight mastery, this did not always stay the same. As time went on, and the Gestalt conscious of the Knights grew and expanded with each dead pilot - creating a harder and harder Machine Spirit to master - Bicarmion’s unique mutation proved its worth.
Instead of having a singular Mind that would merge with the Pilot, there were two - with the Machine Spirits allowed to communicate, they began to differentiate themselves and, as more kinsmen were added to the Gestalt mind, the Pilot found themselves not being a Component slotted into the Machine Spirit inorder to give it will, but rather a more conversational bent. It was not a new Pilot coming to master a Machine Spirit who had nothing to do but fight (even its newest pilot psychically), it would be a bickering couple being forced to cooperate by the youngblood
By the time of Lion El’Johnson’s conquest - the Bicarmion’s a proud member of the Order for centuries (actually cause none of the other guilds wanted a family with such a high washout rate, and by the time that was fixed the animosity had built) - found themselves swept up in the fervor when the planet was unified and then the Emperor arrived in person.
Unwilling to abandon their oaths to the Lion, the Bicarmion’s joined the Imperium but, like the other houses of Caliban, insisted on staying with the Lion and his Dark Angels. By then, the two Machine Spirits had been affectionately named “Grandfather” and “Grandmother.” The Machine Spirits were a combination of their ancestors, and having their deadkinsmen - thousands of years of them at this point - were practically family.

They’ve stayed loyal since the Heresy and, due to the family occupying a very priveledged, if not powerful, position in the Imperium meant that many Bicarmions would go on to be Rogue Traders and Inquisitors… but they would always seek out the Knight of the House, to seek Wisdom from the revered Machine Spirits of the Knight, who all the family view as Kin. Since the Heresy and Lion El’Johnson leaving, the House has spent much more time around said groups sparking some concern of their loyalty to the Empire as they seemed to only be honoring themselves. On top of the Dark Angels already mysterious nature, the Bicarmions became more isolationist. However, with the return of the Primarchs, the house has been revitalized
Anyways im going to try to draw this knight at some point - but with different colors and some more aestehtic variations. Like for one, probably give it an axe and a chaingun, take off the Chaos branding with the family Coat of Arms, the despoiler is just my favorite. I’m thinking the standard grey but with much more color painted on with the family coat of Arms. After all, the Bicarmions have had the same coat of arms for centuries! They respect the Lion, but they’re not going to rebrand just for him!
Current pilot is Juilette Katrin Schtark-Feld of the Knightly House Bicarmion, she had been a pilot for about a year when Guiliman came back and is currently doing everything in her power, with grandma and grandpa yelling at her to go faster, to find El’Johnson and help atone
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Absence of Blade (7029 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Diamante (One Piece), Rebecca (One Piece), Donquixote Doflamingo Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Reconciliation, Enemies to Friends, Reunions, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, not very shippy just feels and some light flirtation Summary: Diamante and Rebecca finally meet to settle the bad blood between then, one way or another.
-
It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say that Rebecca had been welcomed back into the Donquixotes with the same kind of open arms she'd been welcomed into the Vinsmokes. That was a good thing, since the two families were going to be working together on a joint project that put Rebecca in the middle of them.
She'd pretty much immediately gotten dogpiled by Derringer, Baby 5 and Buffalo, who'd practically tackled her off her feet in a hug that only dissipated when she told them that even as an enhanced supersoldier she still had to breathe.
Between them and the rest of the Donquixotes—Rebecca was right back as part of the family. Rebecca of the Donquixotes, their wayward princess. Even Law came up to rib her gently about it.
Of the executives, aside from Law, Pica had given her a friendly wave. Remembering his temper, that was close enough to a warm welcome. Trebol, meanwhile, had mentioned offhandedly that he wanted to speak with her and hear more about her enhancements from the Vinsmokes. It wasn't a surprise he was interested. Trebol was a smart man, he'd been her schoolteacher as a child. She'd agreed, hoping to have it soon, she was sure he was keenly interested in the process that had made her more than human. It helped that she was actually rather excited to speak with him again.
And then there was Diamante.
Diamante. The man who of all the Donquixotes, Rebecca had the most complicated relationship with. He was the man who'd killed her mother, in self defense she now understood, but it didn't make it any easier to grapple with.
Her swordsmanship teacher, the man who taught her how to be a true warrior, and one of the Donquixotes she looked up to the most, later the face she saw opposing her in the arena time and time again. Every time a reminder of her mother's death, and the heartbreak severing from the Family caused her.
Initially while Rebecca had been reconnected with the family he'd remained on the periphery, just out of the circle of faces. At some point she'd noticed that he'd disappeared, and Doflamingo seemed to have vanished as well.
Wherever he'd gone, she was sure they were talking. Maybe even about her return. Probably about her return.
She chewed her lip, even as Baby 5 tried to convince her to join a game she was starting up with the others, and Giolla offered her some wine. Did he object? Was Diamante upset she'd come back?
Rebecca felt a hand on her shoulder, and the already familiar again tickle of Doflamingo's feather coat. "Sorry to cut in. I need to steal Rebecca for a few minutes."
"Awww mannnn!." Baby 5 pouted, "I was just about to win back my money!"
From the cards she tossed down. She absolutely was not.
"It'll only be a few minutes, probably." Rebecca leaned into Doffy's hand for a moment before she stood and set down her wine and looked up at him with a small smile. "For nothing bad, I hope?"
"Don't worry, it's not for a spanking." Doffy chuckled and offered her his arm as he led her away from the group. He was quiet until they'd escaped the orbit of the family. "Diamante wanted me to ask you if you'd mind talking in private."
The flush as she stumbled away with him started to subside by then, and she looked up with widened eyes.
"...Diamante wants to speak to me in private?" She squeezed Doffy's arm tighter, walking closer. "He's not upset, is he?"
Doflamingo snorted. "Dia? If he was upset, you'd know it. I think it's more that he's unsure on your position. He spent fifteen minutes assuring me he knew for a fact you hated him and wanted him dead."
Rebecca couldn't help the snort that escaped through her, before she laughed.
"Oh…so he thinks I want him dead, does he?" She was still mixed up over the whole thing; things were complicated with him! Very complicated. Almost more complicated than they were with Doffy. But, she'd made a promise. She was part of the family again, wasn't she?
"He seems pretty damned sure of it, yeah, Becca. Can't say I exactly fault him for it, given the circumstances. I'm sure you can remember how he can be at the best of times."
Doffy had an arm around her as he led her to wherever they were going. Back to the docks, it seemed.
Rebecca leaned against him with a quiet sigh.
"No, I can't blame him. Honestly, I was kind of surprised everyone seemed happy to have me back. I thought more people would be angry or…I don't know. Scared I had an ulterior motive." She chewed her lip, reflecting on Diamante. Even at the best of times, it was true he could be a little suspicious. "I can't fault him. I know I…I messed things up a bit."
Doffy waved his free hand. "It was a whole mess. The fact is everyone is happy to see you again. I'll be honest with you however, Becca, a lot of that is thanks to your aunt, do you understand what I'm saying?"
He paused to turn and look at her, his red glasses shining.
Her aunt. Viola. Violet. Who it seemed had come running back to Doflamingo after the fall of Dressrosa, like the whole thing had been one of their simple lovers' spats. If Violet had rejoined them in the wake of Dressrosa– in the wake of their blood family's victory, and the destruction of any practical reason she might have to stay with the Donquixotes– then that meant that they could trust her, didn't it?
And if they could trust Violet, then they could trust Rebecca. Because if Rebecca was planning to turn the knife on the family, Violet would see it in her mind. And she would warn them.
Violet had turned her back on the family of Riku completely in favor of the Donquixotes—who at that point had nothing but one another. Rebecca nodded as she looked into his shining lenses.
"I understand, Doffy.My Aunt Violet helped pave the way—and she always knows I can't lie to her. So…so she knows my feelings are genuine."
Doffy nodded, and started toward the dock again, toward a large and imposing ship that Rebecca hadn't seen before. "Exactly, Becca. And for most of the family that's good enough for them, especially with everything that's happened lately."
She squeezed his arm again with a chewing of her lower lip.
"Well I'm glad…I didn't want to be pushed out again, you know? But for Dia…I..I know how he can be." She looked up, squinting at the ship. "Is that your new ship, Doffy?"
"A bit bland compared to the Numancia, isn't she?" Doffy sighed and shook his head, still smiling. "We'll get a custom one, soon."
"Good, I was gonna say; I really loved the Numancia." She closed her eyes and imagined the large ship, with its great flamingo figurehead and its bright pink wings. She used to love running around the deck of it, or asking Doffy if she could sit on the head of the flamingo. She never got to ride it out to sea—but she used to adore seeing it in the port.
"Alas for the poor bird." Doffy shook his head, and she watched his fingers tightened briefly into a fist. "I heard they burned it in the port. But– we're looking towards the future, aren't we, Rebecca?"
Rebecca winced. "I wouldn't be surprised. I wasn't there, I didn't see it go." Once again that sting of guilt and regret clawed at her chest, and her arms wrapped tighter around his as she took a deep breath before she nodded. "Y-yeah. We are. You'll get a bigger, better ship! Maybe with an even fancier flamingo on it! H-heh."
"I was thinking exactly the same."
Without warning, Doffy scooped her around the middle, and his threads wound around the rail of the ship. Rather than using the gangplank, he simply carried her on board like a spider leaping across its web.
Rebecca flushed, reminded a bit of their private reconciliation as she clung to him and leapt her up on board with his power. "Oh!! Thanks Doffy!"
"Of course." Doffy smiled and let her go. The curve of his grin made her think maybe he was thinking of their reconciliation as well. "Diamante's in the lounge below deck. I'll wait up here for you."
Rebecca let her hand linger on him for a moment as she took a deep breath to steady herself. She wasn't sure how she wanted to approach this. She didn't feel ready.
It was already a little hard with the rest of the family, but their enthusiastic welcoming—even Pica and Trebol—of their 'princess of the Donquixotes' back into the fold had eased that a lot.
But Diamante wasn't so easy to forgive. And Diamante was the one she was struggling the most to face. Even if she knew the truth—that he killed her mother in self defense, in Doffy's defense, and not as some cold blooded act of cruelty—she still felt that sharp pang in her heart at the memory.
She was orphaned. She was taken in and he'd taken it on her to train her into the warrior she still was today…she'd loved and respected him, but at the same time, he was the man who'd orphaned her.
-
Diamante was smoking like a chimney. He'd gone through almost half a dozen cigs since his conversation with Doffy, the butts of which were now cluttering the ashtray beside the couch where he was sitting. He lit a fresh one when he heard footsteps outside the door of the lounge. Light footsteps. Not Doffy's for sure. Somebody small.
Rebecca.
The lounge was all wrong for a fight. Intimate and cluttered. Dia was sure that was why Doffy had insisted he and Rebecca talk there, rather than on the deck or out in the green. It'd give him pause to draw his sword in the lounge just for the sheer inconvenience of it, maybe it'd be the same for Rebecca.
He could handle her if she came at him with a knife.
Probably.
The door opened, and he saw Rebecca framed in the hallway's lamps, a muted and unreadable expression on her face as she stepped inside and closed the door. She'd changed—a lot.
Snow-white hair framed her face and fell down her back in that familiar braid she'd always worn, and something strange glinted in the light on both her arms along the underside as she reached up to tuck a lock of hair over her ear and stare at him.
She was dressed like a Vinsmoke, a member of Germa 66, the body hugging uniform opening down her stomach and bearing a lot of skin despite the cloak she wore around her shoulders. All white, cut in with red, green, pink and blue accents.
After a moment of silence, she managed something that was almost a smile and folded her arms over her chest. "Hey Dia. I heard you wanted to talk to me in private."
"Becca," he nodded, and waved for her to have a seat. If she was gonna lead with friendly nicknames, he'd match her.
He glanced her over again. The hair was the biggest change of course, aside from how she was dressed. He thought she might have put on a little more muscle too, but she wasn't an inch taller.
"You look like you've been keeping in practice." He sucked in a breath of his cigarette and put it in the ashtray, reaching for the bottle of wine beside it, instead.
Rebecca laughed, a smile crossing her face as she nodded.
"Well of course. I had to stay in top shape in the arena, or I'd die and give Dressrosa what it wanted! And after that, well…" She tilted her head to the side, glancing at the wine. "The Vinsmokes are impressed by strength. I couldn't let them down. I've been training basically every day since then."
He raised the bottle toward her. "It's paid off, pretty clearly."
Rebecca had always been strong. Devastatingly strong. She was a hell of a fighter even when she was little. It was something Dia had always liked about her back then.
In the arena there'd always been a nagging worry that one day she'd stop holding back, and she'd beat him.
"You want a drink?" he offered.
The smile that crossed her face was almost frightening. Maybe with the Vinsmokes she had stopped holding back. There were already whispers around the ongoing party about the brutality of 'the Army of Evil' when they were facing the marines.
"I got in their good graces by absolutely trashing them in a sparring match despite being 'just a human'," she took a hesitant step forward. "I wouldn't mind a drink, I've burned off the one Giolla gave me earlier already."
He nodded, and grabbed a fresh glass from nearby, pouring from the bottle for her.
"Booze has been flowing pretty free around here today. A lot like the blood."
The Army of Evil. Little Rebecca had gone and joined the bloodthirsty mercenary army. If you'd told him that a few months ago he would have laughed in your face. And then he would have gone off to have a quiet drink because there was something there that didn't sound all that unrealistic.
And now here they were.
"The blood's been flowing pretty freely. I'm lucky this uniform's stain resistant or they'd start thinking they got a second Sparkling Red!" Rebecca chuckled softly as she held out her hand for the glass. She shook her head. "But it's good—we drove off those damn marines and now we can enjoy ourselves. The whole bunch of us, the whole family. I'd say we earned all the drinks we can pour!"
"I'll say." He handed her the drink as casually as he could. "Heard you more than earned it, too. Comin' in and taking out the marines while we were all napping."
She took the drink carefully, as if she was trying not to make any sudden moves to set him off, before she raised it to her lips and took a long and trusting sip of it.
"We sure did. It wasn't an easy fight, but it was a pretty fun workout. A shame though, my faction didn't manage to take out the Fleet Admiral. But I suppose Sabo and Hancock kind of earned it. They've been more like…directly hurt by the guy."
"Jealous, huh? I kinda am too.' He took another drink from the bottle he'd just poured from. They were pussyfooting around the thing– both of them were. It was time to strike. "So, if you're all shacked up with the Vinsmokes, how come you wanted to come patch things up with the family?"
Well…that made her go quiet for a moment. Instead of answering she sipped her wine, her eyes half closed as she tasted the wine. "You always were a fan of direct tactics, Dia."
"No lie there." He took another sip of wine. "Nobody wants to wait around all day to get to the good part."
Rebecca sighed. "Can I take a seat before I get into it, or should I stand and explain myself?"
"Becca I been waitin' this whole time for you to sit down!" He sputtered sitting up a little bit from where he was lounging. "Thought you were standing cause that's what you wanted to do."
He'd waved her to sit down, hadn't he? He'd offered her a drink. She was the one still standing! Not like he could blame her, she was a shorty after all.
Rebecca blinked, before she turned a vivid red that stood out against her pale hair. With a familiar pouty puff of her cheeks, she dropped into one of the seats and took another long sip of wine. "I was trying to be polite, geeze!"
That took the wind out of him again. "Polite? To me?? What the hell for?"
Rebecca threw her hands up , and some of the wine sloshed from the rim of the cup to splash on her cloak, though it just kind of dripped off and towards the ground. She wasn't lying about the fabric. "Because I still feel really fucking bad???"
Dia stared at her. He pushed up his hat to make sure he was getting a good view and he stared at her some more.
"You feel bad? What the hell for?"
This was actually Rebecca, right? Not some pale haired clone the Vinmokes had come up with? Or maybe they'd done something to her brain?
No. No.
This was classic Rebecca. Always feeling bad when she didn't need to.
He watched her take another sip of wine with a slight frown.
"Because I hurt Doffy and everyone else. I'm not happy about that. Even if I thought I was doing the right thing, and even though I was hurting too because of the things I learned, I still feel bad about it." She shrugged. "....after talking with Doffy I remembered how much I used to care about you guys. That's why I wanted to come back. I don't have any real connections to Dressrosa anymore, anyway."
Rebecca had been a little girl when they'd taken her into the family. She had, in fact, been the last kid they'd brought in. In the year before Dressrosa's take over, Doffy had stopped bringing in orphans. Couldn't bear it after what happened with Law, and with that traitor brother of his.
Rebecca had been an exception in so many ways. Brought in when her aunt had begged, and kept from the darker secrets of the family.
Like the fact that they were the ones who had orphaned her. That Diamante was the one who had orphaned her.
Doffy never understood the way blood was important to some people. He'd severed those ties by force when he was so young. He'd been sure that even if Rebecca learned the truth, she'd still be a Donquixote.
Diamante had had a mother once.
Diamante had been sure, every time he trained Rebecca in the sword, every time he locked eyes with that determined little girl, he was looking in the eyes of the girl who'd kill him one day.
His tongue was dry in his throat. He didn't know quite what to say.
"Becca, I was confused when Violet came back," he managed finally. "But that at least I could wrap my head around. But you, though? If anybody involved in the damned Dressrosa disaster actually had a reason to hate us, it's you."
Rebecca sipped her wine, glancing off to the side. "...I did hate you. You killed my mother, Dia. you'd killed her and everyone had kept it secret from me until a man I couldn't remember kidnapped me and told me all about what happened!"
Her frown grew sharper, and her pale eyes flicked down towards her lap. "And because I was scared and confused I believed every word he told me. So when you captured me and threw me in the reeking hellpit that was the Dressrosa Arena…yes. I hated the whole family, and I wanted to get strong enough to get revenge."
He waved a hand at her. "Right? See? That makes fucking sense. What doesn't make sense is you being here right now and not trying to put a fucking knife in my throat."
Maybe he was baiting her a little bit. He could have had a more delicate touch. But she was right about him. He was a very direct man. He just wanted to know what the hell was going on. If she was gonna try to kill him, he wanted it to be now.
Rebecca laughed.
"You're trying to bait me! Just like when we were training together and I'd run in and get knocked to the floor!" She pointed her glass at him. "I'm stronger now, Dia. Strong enough to get all the revenge I could ever want. I'm faster than anyone in the family, I'm difficult to kill or wound, and I'm stronger—with the power of light on my side. And I can even still swim."
She tilted the glass back and took a long sip of it. "So it makes sense you're waiting for me to kill you. But—I talked with Doffy, I even almost attacked him but…" she seemed to think for a second before she murmured. "Well. Let me ask you this. What do you think of Kyros?"
She left 'smart' off the list of her talents, he noticed, but she was still damned smart. Knew when she was being baited, for sure. Meanwhile he was on uncertain footing.
Kyros. Rebecca's father. The only man who'd beaten Diamante in a fight in years. A man who could have killed him, but left him to the damned marines instead. A man who Diamante had forgotten existed for years, but to hear tell of it had spent every single minute of those years hating Diamante.
"Brave man. Good fighter. If he was here right now, I'd do my best to kill him."
It was bait again, but it was also the truth, and Rebecca needed to know that. He wasn't gonna lie, he wasn't gonna pussyfoot around.
"You're right about all those things!" Rebecca made a soft noise that might have been a laugh, and looked into her wine. "He is brave, and he's an excellent fighter, and a lot of people would call him a good man."
She chewed her lip thoughtfully before she shook her head. "But I barely know him. I was a kid when the entire world forgot who he was. A lot of my memories of that time were fuzzy anyway. The biggest thing I remembered was my mother's kindness when we gardened and her saying she was going to do something to keep me fed."
She glanced up at Diamante. "But not a lot about my father besides those things. His strength and his bravery. And most of that was through hearsay of the people around me. Then, after Sugar passed out, I remembered him…or at least, a slight idea of him from my hazy memories. And the first thing he did when we reunited was try to convince me to give up the sword and be a proper girl of noble birth."
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Diamante nodded, keeping his eye on her. He took another drink from the bottle. "Man of his type thinks women deserve to be, you know, cherished and preserved. Fighting's for the menfolk. Not 'cause women can't do it, but because it's a burden and shit."
Rebecca nodded slowly. "That's basically what he told me. Practically begged me to understand. 'You don't need to bloody your hands anymore', 'the burden of combat is off your shoulders', 'let me protect you from now on'. "
She glanced up at Diamante with a wry smile. "Funny, huh? I've been living with a talent for bloodshed since I was a kid..and you probably forgot this, Dia—but I'm not stupid. I knew what the Donquixotes were under all that royal pomp and circumstance. I wanted to be a pirate when I grew up. And my father wanted me to be a princess—or even worse, a handmaiden living a simple life at home."
"Oh trust me, Becca, one thing I never forgot is how smart you are. I was just saying to myself a minute ago you were always a smart one. Always figured you knew something was up." Another sip of wine. He thumbed the rim of the bottle thoughtfully and remembered he'd forgotten his cigarette. It was burned down to ash in the ashtray. So fucking nervous he was turning into Vergo over here. He shook his head again. "So you wanted to be a pirate huh? And your daddy had other plans."
"His precious little girl wasn't going to be a mercenary—or a gladiator—or a pirate—or anything like that." Rebecca shook her head. "but that girl was only in his memories. I hadn't been her for a long time—if I ever even was. I mean. What do you think, Dia? Was I ever the gentle type suited to a life of flowers, quiet nobility and tending to my dear aunt's needs?"
"Suited to flowers and nobility and tending your aunt?" Diamante chuckled. "You were always as likely to come back inside with your dress full of frogs as you were flowers. And hell if anybody could get you to stay quiet."
He was thoughtful for a moment. Rebecca did hold herself back in fights. It was something he'd always tried to get her to shake in her training. In a way, it was the opposite problem he'd had with Law. Law would would always attack, recklessly, constantly, without forethought. Rebecca was always thinking and calculating– and second guessing and hesitating.
But was she the gentle type?
Hell no.
Rebecca flashed a bright smile. "You're right, of course! I loved adventure—collecting frogs, fighting, being as loud as I wanted—all of that!"
She laughed into her hand. "And I want you to think about that for a second, Dia…the fact that you know what I'm really like, and the way my father reacted to me."
In the end, it wasn't a difficult train of thought to follow. Kyros' logic was obvious of course. He loved his daughter, and like all fathers, he still thought of her as a precious little girl to be protected. He'd done his best to help her fight when that was what was needed, but as soon as that was over, he went right back to wanting to protect her again. And like all fathers of precious little girls he was sure that was what she wanted.
Hell, maybe Rebecca had even made it sound like what she wanted, in that couple of years in the coliseum. Between all the talk of revenge, he was sure there was talk of just wanting a chance to stop fighting.
But Diamante had watched Rebecca grow up. He had trained her to fight and watched her come into the castle with pockets full of frogs, and heard her talk about adventure.
And Diamante wasn't her father. He could look at her without seeing a precious little girl.
Of course Kyros had tried to smother her, and of course Rebecca had pushed him away.
Finally, finally it made sense.
He reached for his pack of cigarettes to get a fresh one.
"Becca, do you know what my daddy did for a living?"
Rebecca tilted her head to the side with a thoughtful frown. "No, I don't…you never told me. It was the North Blue, right? Was it related to the factories?"
He shook his head. "Our island was too small for the factories. My daddy made boots. He was a cobbler. His daddy before him made boots, too. And his daddy. Good, respectable profession. Everybody needs boots, now don't they?"
"They do, from soldiers to farmers to nobles, everyone needs a good pair of boots to make it through the day," Rebecca nodded slowly. "But you weren't a cobbler at heart, huh?"
Diamante lit his cigarette, and took a long puff of it. He offered Rebecca the pack. He didn't think about the past a lot. Tried to put it out of his mind.
"Surely I was not," he agreed."I was his first born son and I wanted to do any god damned thing other than make fuckin' boots. My family lived on that island eight generations, and all I wanted to do was get the hell away. I wanted adventure. I wanted glory. I wanted treasure. My daddy had a lot to say on that, and he was as good at kicking as he was at making boots."
Rebecca took the pack of cigarettes and tapped one out with a deepening of her frown. "And he thought that could sort you into the cobbler he wanted you to be?"
She rubbed her fingers together with a little flickering of light before she reached into her toolbelt to retrieve a small cylindrical object that she flicked and produced a sharp light from. The tip ignited and she took a deep breath of smoke. It must have been some weird Vinsmoke lighter…or maybe some gadget of death repurposed for a smoke.
On her exhale, her brow furrowed and she looked a little sad. "I see."
"Joke was on him. I split as soon as I was old enough to think I could hold my own in a fight." Diamante grinned, taking a long puff of his cigarette as he watched Rebecca light up. "So I get it. That explains why you cut ties with Dressrosa and ran off. Ended up with the Vinsmokes."
Did it explain why she was trying to get back in good with the Donquixotes though? That was what he was still turning over.
"And I love the Vinsmokes!" Rebecca's face lit up in a smile, the frown evaporating as she placed the cigarette to her lips. "...a lot. I fell in love with them really fast, Dia—and they love me too, now that they understand human emotion."
"Sounds like things are going great, then. You got your happy ending. Mercenary adventure kicking ass with the army of evil. So I'll ask again, why come back and hang with us? Nostalgia?"
Rebecca shrugged her shoulders. "Why did Violet come back when she'd gotten what she thought was her happy ending? How about Law?"
She sipped her wine with a frown. "I was fully intending to make Doffy scared of me when I cornered him, you know. I wasn't going to kill him, but I was going to put him to the sword so he'd remember every humiliation I'd faced in the arena. But when I talked with him I couldn't do it. Y'wanna know why? It's not exactly nostalgia…though I guess that's part of it."
Doffy.
Well, really that just answered the question right there, didn't it? Nobody could say no to Doffy. Dia hadn't been able to say no to him when they found him all those years ago. There was just something about him. If Rebecca had let Doflamingo open his mouth, and Doffy decided he wanted her back, well. That was that, really.
But he was still curious.
"Indulge me just a little more, Becca. Tell me why."
Rebecca tensed before she admitted "a few things. First—Doffy told me what really happened with my mother. I'd turned against you because I thought…I thought you'd killed her in cold blood to rid yourselves of a spare noble. That's what my father told me happened. But, it was self defense. It doesn't make me any less upset—it doesn't hurt any less, but knowing the truth means a lot, Dia. It means I know you weren't just trying to hurt and use me. It's not a senseless death anymore."
So Doffy had told her. Diamante hadn't, back in Dressrosa. When she'd asked if it was true he killed her, he had told her the plain truth. Yes he had. He killed her mother. As far as he was concerned, factors or details didn't change what it was.
He shook his head and blew smoke from his mouth. "Not a senseless death huh? I still killed her, Becca. Ain't nothing ever gonna change that."
Rebecca's eyes met his. Her was stare unyielding as she ever was in the arena, and she set her glass down with a shake of her head.
"No, nothing's ever going to change that. You killed my mother, and it still hurts Dia. A lot. But there is a difference between a senseless death and a regular death."
She put the cigarette to her lips again. "...a senseless death doesn't have a reason that makes sense behind it. My mother…I adore her, and I see what she was trying to do. Put food on the table, and save our country and the people she loved from a bunch of people who'd used her father and taken over…so she tried to kill Doffy, and you responded the way you knew how. Protecting him. It makes sense—it still hurts, but it's not nearly as bad as just thinking you had simply killed an unarmed flower seller as insult to injury."
"I won't ever ask you to forgive me for it. But it's nice to know you see it for what it was. She was an enemy of the family, and I cut her down, simple as that."
It had been simple. At least until they'd brought the dead woman's daughter into the family. But it looked like underneath it all, Rebecca really always had been a Donquixote.
Rebecca took a deep breath of smoke from her cigarette. Her shoulders were shaking, almost invisibly. She was doing a good job of hiding it, especially as she nodded with a small smile, but not quite so that he didn't notice.
"Yeah. Like you do to any enemy of the family, right? But then I came into the picture…and suddenly it's not as simple as that at all." She bit her lip in that familiar way of hers before substituting it for the cigarette. "Understanding that, though…it made a lot of my hatred start to fade…the other part of my revelation took it the rest of the way."
"And what was that other part, Becca?"
Rebecca laughed, brushing her hair from her face with the hand that didn't hold her smoldering cigarette. "It's a little silly, Dia."
He flipped up the brim of his hat. He was broadly satisfied now, but his curiosity was admittedly piqued. "Well, I'm kind of a silly man, Becca. Spill it, if you wanna."
Rebecca puffed out her cheeks in a huff again, before she took a long sip of her wine with a shake of her head.
"Talking with Doffy was like opening a floodgate. It reminded me of a lot of things. Good times with all of you—our training sessions, Trebol's lessons, hanging out with the younger gang, Miss Monet showing me the stars, painting with Giolla…sitting on Doffy's lap and reading the comics I eventually became a part of…"
She flushed deeply. "All of it. And it kind of hit me that you guys were closer to me than anyone I'd ever known. And it reminded me that I cared about you guys, even after everything—even if I had been so mad. I still loved you guys."
Diamante couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, talking to Doffy has that effect, doesn't it? Alright, you win. I get why you wanted to come on back. So, where does that leave me and you?"
"He sure does—" she murmured, and for some reason only seemed to get more embarrassed about the whole thing. She put her cigarette to her lips with a shy glance upwards and a tilt of her head. "...that's a good question."
Dia's cigarette had burned down almost to his fingers, and he put the stub out in the ashtray before sitting forward toward her
"I thought it might be."
-
Rebecca was happy, genuinely happy, that she'd managed to get her feelings across to Diamante in the quiet lounge room. She'd known it would be difficult to understand; she hadn't really understood it herself until she was walking around with Doffy and Monet and really thought about it.
Her reason for leaving Dressrosa, her reason for joining the Vinsmokes, and her reason for coming back to the Donquixotes were all deeply interlinked.
And love was a part of that reason in each of them. So as she sat there, smoking a cigarette that couldn't harm her enhanced body, looking at Dia as he leaned forward and asked her 'where does that leave me and you' fresh off her memory of her reunion with Doffy and the intimacy that caused, she was back off balance for the first time since the start of the conversation.
She chewed her lip thoughtfully , still looking at the ceiling. "We've always had quite the interaction…and quite a complicated history."
"Well, with complicated people, that's bound to be the case, right?" Dia had the wine bottle in his lap again. They always looked so small when he held them. The man was twice her height, and being in the same room with him, it almost felt like she hadn't grown at all since the first time they'd met. "All I wanna know is how you want me to act, Becca. If you say 'gimme some space, Dia', I'll respect that."
She fumbled for her glass again with a thin smile. With Doflamingo, with Dia now—with Trebol too. With all the massive members of the Donquixotes, she still felt as tiny as the day she left. She'd all but given up hope of ever getting taller than she already had.
Did she want him to give her space? Her heart was still aching over the loss of her mother—maybe it'd ache forever—but was she angry at him anymore? Not…really. She was more disappointed that it'd gone the way it did.
She chewed on her lip as she brought the wine glass up. "I don't want space, Dia. Thank you though."
Diamante pulled the wine from his lap and took a long drink, then offered her the bottle to refill her glass.
"Hey, you were being polite I thought I'd return the favor, yeah? Even if it's not exactly one of my strengths."
She held out her glass, letting him refill it as she laughed.
"You've always been a bit bad at being polite, huh? But that was a pretty good effort!" She closed her eyes, feeling her shoulders shaking a little again. "I want to be a part of the family again, even if I'm getting married to the Vinsmokes. Just like I was part of it before, yeah? O…only no more secrets this time."
He poured the last of the wine out into her glass and grinned his wide grin. "Aw, it was nothing. But if all you want's to be back in the family, that I can do, easy. And you're in luck. Can't think of any more secrets I'm keeping from you."
"Good!" she stuck out her tongue. "...because that's the only secret I could think of. It was more than enough for me."
She brought her wine to her lips and took a long sip. No more secrets. She didn't have to pretend not to know what the Donquixotes were really like. She didn't have to pretend they weren't pirates and she was just lovingly adopted by the new royal family, instead of lovingly adopted into one of the most feared pirate crews around.
No more sins weighing on people, like her mother's death. Nothing that some toy soldier would come and shatter her young life with.
"I was hoping we could get back on the right foot, honestly…I wanted to spar…especially 'cause now I can finally beat you."
"We-hell! If you wanna spar, missy then we'll spar." He grinned widely and leaned back on the sofa with his arms behind his head, hat tipped down. "I'll be honest, I'm interested to see you in action."
Rebecca leaned forward, nearly tipping off the edge of her seat with a wicked grin. "I think you'll be surprised. I'm not the little girl setting frogs free across the castle anymore. You thought I was skilled then—it's got nothing on me now."
He waved his hand lazily. "Please, Becca. I watched you every day in the Coliseum. I fought you. I'm not your father and I don't think you're a baby. But I am excited to see what kinda juice the Vinsmokes have been pumping you with."
Rebecca felt her face flushing at the phrasing, and she rubbed the small metallic port set deep in her arm, a little injection port to help get a needle past her augmented skin.
"They've been pumping me with a lot, Dia. I think you'll enjoy the show."
Dia cackled and slapped his knee. "A man might think that was a little innuendo, girly. But hell, I do love a show. And hey, if we've patched things up we better go tell Doffy, right? Before he starts pining."
"Maybe it was a little innuendo, Dia." She stuck out her tongue. "A girl's allowed to have a little fun."
She stood, though, and smothered the cigarette out fully in the ashtray before she offered her hand with a laugh. "...the last thing I want is for Doffy to sit there pining. Let's let him know we haven't gone for one another's throats, huh?"
Diamante's fingers wrapped around her hand, and wrist. He was even bigger than Doffy. He stood up smoothly, not really using her for much of an assist, and he adjusted his hat on his head.
"Pshaw, if he thought we were fightin', he'd have come down here by now. More likely he thinks we're makin' out."
Rebecca felt a warm heat crawl over her face again, and she sputtered a moment before huffing and adjusting her cape over her shoulders. "I imagine you wouldn't want to give him that impression! So we'd probably best hurry."
Diamante chuckled and sauntered along beside her. "That'd be polite."
She kind of wished the flushed embarrassment would pass in just a moment—or at the very least that it wouldn't be quite so painfully obvious as she pushed the door open and headed into the hall.
If nothing else, she deserved a little pride, didn't she?
"And I know you're nothing but polite, Dia."
#donquixote doflamingo#donquixote family#rebecca riku#diamante#one piece#fic: one piece deicide#fanfiction#fan fiction#fanfic#archive of our own#ao3
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My entire Spanish novel collection








I'm not a huge fan of George Orwell, but I read both Animal Farm and 1984 in high school so I know they're short and easy to read. They'll be good practice.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is by far my favorite series of all time. None of the four (yes, four. Not five, not six, but four) are favorites by themselves, but taken as a whole I have yet to find anything more entertaining.
Jurassic Park is fun but VERY dry (as is Crichton's style). He has a lot of "look at all the research I did" exposition dumps, which I liked as a teenager but don't much care for now. If nothing else, I'll learn plenty of scientific vocabulary from Parque Jurasico.
The Martian is one of my favorite books of all time, tied for first with two titles below. I've read it a dozen times, I know it forwards and backwards. El Marciano was the first Spanish book I ever bought back in 2021, and I couldn't parse more than one word in ten. My reading comprehension has improved tremendously since then, and now I can read almost the entire thing (if I don't understand a certain passage, I know from memory of the English version which part I'm at in the story and can limp along without getting frustrated or confused)
The Road is one of the few books that has made me cry. Let me leave it at that.
The Time Traveler's Wife is another favorite tied with The Martian. I read all the other books on this list in high school or college, but I didn't pick this one up until relatively recently. I am currently in the process of reading La Mujer del Viajero en el Tiempo for the first time, and like The Martian I am able to use my knowledge of the English version to cross the gaps I don't yet understand.
World War Z is the third of the three way tie for favorite. I wanna say I read it for the first time in 2011 or 2012. It was before the movie came out, and I remember taking it with me to read at church camp one summer (it was a long bus ride to North Carolina, and I had to hide it from the chaperones all week). Every time I reread it, I pick up on some new aspect I missed the first dozen times around, so I'm excited to see if I come to any revelations in Spanish.
Books I want to get
Artemis and Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir
Devolution by Max Brooks
Redshirts by John Scalzi
A family friend of mine moved to the United States from Honduras in her late 20s and learned English in part by watching Sesame Street with her kids, so I want to get Spanish versions of the Hunger Games trilogy and the five Percy Jackson and the Olympians books because I figure YA novels might help me learn Spanish easier than adult fiction. Right now I'm looking for simple titles that I'm already familiar with, but eventually I want to start buying Spanish books I've never read in English so I can fly without a net. My background is in Latin American Spanish, specifically Cuban Spanish, but my copy of El Marciano is European, so it shouldn't make too much of a difference which translations I buy (just so long as I keep series grouped together in sets so they're all the same)
#spanish books#español#libros#animal farm#1984#george orwell#the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy#douglas adams#jurassic park#michael crichton#the martian#andy weir#the time traveler's wife#audrey niffenegger#world war z#max brooks#the road#cormac mccarthy#spanish practice#reading list#to read list#spanish edition
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AITA for breaking up with my friend at a party he was hosting?
Basically, I've (F40s) been friends with this guy, F (M40s) for about twenty years. We met when we were in college (different schools but lived in the same apartment building) and he has been my absolute best friend pretty much ever since. For a very long time, until a couple of years ago, we were a group of three with my other best friend, C (M40s), but C and F had a large, public, and extremely dramatic falling out. Since then, I've managed to stay friends with both of them, but C and F haven't spoken since their fight.
One of the reasons C and F stopped being friends was the life choices that F made. F started out as an artist, an extremely talented and pretty successful and accomplished composer. C was his partner in writing (a genius playwright and lyricist), but got frustrated over years of watching F choose to chase success over creative satisfaction, leading to F often forgetting about the projects he was supposed to be working on with C. I understood where both of them were coming from; F wanted success and fame regardless of where it came from, while C wanted to make art for art's sake, and their different outlooks on why they were doing what they did led to their eventual split.
I never agreed with F's choices to chase fame and fortune, but ultimately, it was his choice to make. I never thought he was actually happy, but for the last years of our friendship, I was just hoping he'd realize that on his own. Over time, being friends with him became more stressful than it was fulfilling. I'll admit, I've always been a little bit in love with F, so it was even more painful for me to see him marry somebody else and be happy with her, which I was obviously sad about but happy for him, only to throw that relationship away by cheating with a woman who is terrible for him. After his divorce, he practically abandoned his son, which I also hated. His ex moved across the country, and even though F became extremely rich and successful, I still saw his son more than him. F didn't even go to his son's high school graduation, and I did. That was the breaking point for me.
I've stood by F for years despite the disastrous choices he's made. He abandoned his oldest and closest friend over different opinions, which is his choice but still seemed unnecessary to me, threw away all creative integrity he once had for the sake of making terrible movies that sold well but said nothing, abandoned his son, and even after marrying the woman that caused his divorce, cheated on her with a woman half his age and didn't even bother to keep it a secret. I was fed up.
F invited me to a huge party with his new Hollywood friends to celebrate the release of one of his movies. He paid for my flight out. I knew when I accepted that I was ready to end this friendship, which is where I think I might be the asshole. I was drunk before the party even started, a habit that began as a coping mechanism for the stress that F added to my life a while ago, because I knew I wouldn't be brave enough to go through with it without the alcohol. During the party, F brazenly flirted with and even kissed the young woman he's currently cheating on his wife with, and his other "friends" in the room either didn't care or treated it like fun gossip. I drank more. His wife, who has always hated me and known my feelings for F (unsure of if those two facts are connected, honestly), was cruel to me. His "friends" treated me like trash. Eventually, I spoke my mind. Yes, I was drunk, but I meant every word. Everybody in the room was fake and terrible, and F had turned into the kind of person who had earned their treatment of him. He isn't the man I met when I was 20 and fell in love with, not anymore. I never meant to break up the friendship as publically as I did, and I know doing it at the party and insulting his friends made it a much bigger deal than it had to be, but I couldn't wait to do it anymore. I needed it to be done.
So, AITA?
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Prompt #20: The Dreamers
Characters: Gabriel Devrau, Charlotte Avignon, Arazul De'fleur, mention of Ange B'londe and Alize Miller (@crimsonffxiv)
Synopsis: Gabriel continues to ignore the red flags concerning a new research group called 'The Dreamers'. After some investigating, Arazul attempts to talk some sense into him.
Setting: Labyrinthos, The Archeion.
Warning - Mentions of wounds and loss of limbs.
-----------------------
A weary sigh left Gabriel when he slung his leather book bag over his shoulder, not lifting a glance back to hear the greeting of new fellow members. It was always in the evenings that these congregations met, many pairing together to practice dueling with the clash of steel against steel endlessly. Even now, there were many left waiting with fencing swords, knives, claws, or what weapon of their choice at the ready to take on the next available opponents for the real tournament ahead.
With all this activity was a growing familiar pain of late, the dark-haired Wildwood lifted his hands to see the many new fresh cuts that had been left from constant practice and reached down to brush his fingers idly over the ornate hilt of the rapier he had been given.
Normally, he would have rushed home after classes to tinker around on his different projects, but this ache coupled with barely any time that he found himself working on his machinery a lot less – much less writing his letters.
Staring out seemingly into nothing in the distance of Mornveil Forest, there were times Gabriel felt like something out there was watching them? Pressing his red framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose, he found himself hesitant to take the familiar road back home. He rolled his eyes at his own paranoia .
To think he was invited to come down to Labyrinthos at all was an honor, “Still, there has been no sign of Cloche since the last duel either...” He mumbled low enough for no one else to hear. Cloche had been the last wounded in a duel with a deep gash in her hand clear to the bone. She’d been taken to the infirmary, but none had seen her since, nor had she attended any classes…
“Oh, there you are, Gabriel.” A sudden stern voice behind him gave cause for Gabriel to jump a little and seek a calming breath when he pressed a hand to his chest, “Best not to go sneaking up on people like that Professor Avignon with as many weapons as we keep around here. What do you want...?”
The silvered haired elezen woman was a new addition to the Studium and helped to run this little ‘Dreamers’ group held her steady green gaze upon him with a respectful bow of her head, “My apologies. You may take care not to keep your back turned to others too long. Anyway, I came to tell you that we collectively feel you have made the most progress of everyone. So strong and driven...The head of our program looks forward to seeing how well you do in the upcoming duels ahead.” With another bow, she turned on her heel to head away with her hands linked behind her back, looking over the pairs of researchers taking up arms to fight one another.
“Thank you! I fully intend on seeing this all through to the end.” Gabriel’s had begun to feel an uneasiness conflict in himself in finally finding a group that he could see eye to eye with – not feeling like social hierarchy or wealth painted every interaction he had with that sense of separation. Everyone felt on equal grounds here.
Finally heading off towards the gravel path cut through the forest to lead back to Sharlayan, he stopped only a few mere paces to see another with whom he absolutely never saw eye to eye with – Arazul.
Brow’s furrowing, Gabriel did not hesitate to trot up along the path to meet him with an apprehensive gaze and out of sight of any Dreamers that could be nearby. Some outsiders knew some of the particulars of what was going on with this tournament but not all, “Gabriel, we need to have a word right now.”
The seriousness of the blonde’s tone stopped him. Even more so than usual, he didn’t think he had ever seen him with a more troubled expression previously and with such intensity in his fair blue eyes, “Hey, what’s going on? It’s unusual to see your feathers all ruffled about something other than attendance~”
“Indeed, there is something very wrong going on here. I know about these extracurricular activities and strange disappearances. Have you given thought to who may be orchestrating all this...?” Peering more agitated than he had ever seen, Arazul quickly cut to the chase with a gloved hand beckoning him closer for him to lower his voices several octaves, “I thought it was odd that they never gave the name of who was truly running this group of yours. Professor Avignon – There is no record of her previous experience. It took quite a bit of digging, but apparently this benefactor’s name is Ange B’londe...”
Arazul’s gloved hand curled to press to his chin thoughtfully, glaring to the thought that they had all seemingly made their way into Sharlayan without any records, identifications or proof of birth, “There was only a file that he backed the funding to aid researchers on different projects, supposedly he owns a company that sells a type of magnifying lens. But there is nothing else on him. Like he does not exist at all.”
He threw his hands up in the air, “Then, there is Miss Cloche. Unfortunately, she would have been scheduled to have her hand amputated if she had not disappeared entirely. In fact, I believe this is the fifth person this month since this group began to gain recognition.”
Gabriel digested all this latest information with that growing sense of unease only deepening with his full lips pressing together in a grim line, “Look, I feel bad for them all...I really do. But, unless there’s evidence to suggest there was something foul going on, we have nothing. I have so much research I’ve poured into this. I appreciate the concern, but there’s no going back for me.”
The blonde glared at him in complete frustration, reaching to grab a firm hold of his shoulder when he turned to continue home, “And what if you are the next one to disappear?? You would let Alize return to hear something bad came of you?! I…will join in the tournament. At least then, no one will be too badly hurt dueling against me and I can figure out if these disappearances are linked to the Dreamers...”
Gabriel’s eyes widened when Arazul decided this so suddenly, brushing the hand off his arm as he glared at him with vehemence, “This is ridiculous! You’re the best fencer in the city. No one would win against you...Look, I’m going to win this no matter what. I must...” He had not meant for his voice to sound so broken, but with his growing worry over his father’s well-being that It felt to spill out of him. There was nothing more to say or do than to head off back home, feeling far more compromised by emotion than he felt comfortable with.
The doctor could give nothing of a retort and could do little more than stare his back while he walked away- he knew well having tended to the elder man himself, but still...nothing about this whole situation sat well with him at all.
--
A little addition to go along with Prompt 5 - https://www.tumblr.com/avampyone/760849017227853824/prompt-5-letter-from-the-lost-days?source=share
#hemlockeffxiv#gabriel devrau#arazul de'fleur#ffxiv original character#ffxiv oc#ffxivwrite2024#ffxiv writing challenge#duel#not a bad one to write since they have this backstory going for em#I would have liked to do a duel scene or might at some point - brain smooth rn!
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Sugar Punch - Chapter 5

*Warning Adult Content*
Theodore Banks
Every single muscle in my body was aching, making it impossible to not wince every time I sat down.
My workout with Maddox yesterday had left me defeated, so much that when he drove me home last night I went straight to bed and passed out, only when I woke up did, I realize how much pain I was in.
It all felt so crazy now I think about everything that has happened in the last few days since joining the gym.
Even though nothing significant had changed on the outside, I felt like something was happening inside of me, something I wanted to cling onto.
Thinking back to last night, I couldn't believe Maddox drove me home, I wasn't complaining but THE Maddox Zane drove me home, a guy I watched every time he had a fight, until I became somewhat of a fan of his.
It was weird, compared to how dangerous he looked with all those tattoos, he was surprisingly a nice guy, considering the first time I met him I was scared to even talk or even look at him.
Well... I still am scared but being around him last night made me feel just a bit more relaxed around him.
Luckily for me school had finished just as fast as it started, all without any trouble from the football team as I kept my head down and just ate in the library while I worked on my code for a project, I had been working on for a year now.
During lunch I had hacked into the school Wi-Fi and downloaded the famous social media app Instagram, where I decided to peek at Maddox's page, after spending all day thinking about him and why he was being so nice to me.
His page was just as I expected, photos of him training, not a single photo was out of place, not a single selfie body shot and only a few photos with girls and some guys I think were his friends but nothing gave away who he really was.
Everyone who knows the name Maddox Zane knows he came from nothing, his parents weren't present and his mom died when he was young, he practically lived in the gym until he was scouted, the rest is just history.
It was impressive, he did all that without anyone's help, he raised himself and look at him now, he was doing something he loved or I thought he loved, he had always looked at ease during our lessons.
I was almost at the gym and since it was Tuesday, I was taking a class with Rick today and learning self-defence.
Finally, I thought, until I took a moment and really thought about it, Rick, the owner Rick, a big, massive guy was teaching us self-defence.
There was simply no way I could ever get out of Rick's hold, not only was he simply pure beefy muscle but he was tall, I'd be surprised if even Maddox couldn't get out of Rick's grip, he was that large and strong.
Opening the doors to the gym, I saw some familiar people from yesterday, working out as usual, I paid them no mind and kept my head down, clutching my gym bag as I went and signed myself in, putting my name down on the piece of paper for today's lesson.
I was wearing the clothes Maddox had given me and to me shock they fit me, although the T-shirt was a little baggy... but I wasn't complaining, it was free stuff, stuff I couldn't afford on a student salary.
Until I can, I'll have to be careful not to break or rip anything, Maddox probably wants these things back.
I watched as more people came through the doors of the gym and came up to where I stood and signed their names on the paper for the defence lesson today and I couldn't help but grow nervous as everyone looked big, buff and already lethal.
Wasn't this a beginner's lesson?
Just what have I gotten myself into?
"Theo," a deep voice called my name, making me jump and turn around, my heart beating rapidly until I see who it was.
Maddox was with Rick, both dressed in their gym gear as they made their way towards me and the other group of people.
"Hello," I said to him then looked at Rick and smiled at him.
"Glad you could make it," he said before looking at the rest of the group.
"If you're here for defence follow me, I've got a special treat for you all today."
My stomach felt funny as everyone started following behind Rick, noticing that Maddox was walking next to him as I walked behind the group of people, feeling anxious about what's going to happen next.
I've never done something like this before, nobody wanted to even group with me in any sports in school, so why should today be any different?
Was I about to make a fool of myself? Dammit... why was Maddox here too?
Did he also teach defence with Rick?
We all followed Rick and Maddox until we got to a large room with mats all over the floor and some dummies by the side of the wall, I don't know why but it felt hard to breathe the moment people started putting their bags by the door.
"Nice to see you all show up on time for a change," Rick said, grinning as he stood in front of the group, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at each of us in the eyes.
"We have some newcomers so let's welcome Theo and Claire," he said as my eyes go wide once I realise, he just said my name.
Suddenly everyone started clapping at me and another girl who stood beside me, only realising once everyone turned and smiled at us.
She looked like she was my age, she was cute and petite, but there was no way a girl like her would ever pay attention to me, only guys like Maddox got with girls like her.
"We have a guest today who's going to help out in today's lesson, he doesn't need an introduction as you all should know who he is by now," Rick said as my eyes went to Maddox who rolled his eyes at rick.
"Get into pairs then find a place on the mat," Maddox instructed, making everyone scurry to find a partner.
I watched as everyone found a partner, leaving me stood by myself as the odd one left out and with nobody to group up with.
It felt humiliating, I should be used to this but... it still hurt.
It fucking sucked being left out.
Maddox's eyes met mine then called me over to him with a nod of his head.
"Looks like you're stuck with me."
My stomach did a flip once I stood next to him and he put his hand on my shoulder as everyone found a place to stand on the mat, Maddox was acting like everything was normal as he looked around the room, a satisfied look on his face.
"Today we're going to learn one my favourite, what I like to call 'the bear hug' or what the ladies like to do to me on a Friday night, the rear naked chokehold," he said, making everyone in the room laugh.
As the lesson began, Maddox faced me and helped position my arms and taught me how to get him into a hold and how to avoid breaking my hold on him, even going as far as to teaching me another method by body locking him.
It was weird touching him but the moment he told me to wrap my legs around him I almost died from embarrassment, Maddox was a big guy, his body was fully muscle and I was a stick compared to him, so to hold him down like this made me feel weird.
Once I got the hang of it and it is becoming easier to put my arm around his throat and knock him to the ground to wrap my legs around him to secure my hold on him, making it hard to him to break free, I felt like coming here was starting to become worth it.
Obviously, Maddox was going easy on me, I had no strength in my arms, so he could've easily broken free and kicked my ass if he really wanted to but instead he simply taught me how to do it and the other ways to use the technique.
After a few more techniques, where Rick renamed them all to fit his humour, the lesson was finished and even though I was the one pinning Maddox down, I was starting to feel the burn in my arms and legs.
"Looking good today, Theo, you're a quick learner," Rick said as I went and picked up my bag.
I nervously smiled at him and grabbed my bottle of water from my bag.
"Thank you, I learned a lot," I said truthfully as my eyes went to Maddox as he started cleaning up.
"How's your one on one with Mads, is he giving you a hard time?" Rick grinned out as I shook my head, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as I saw Maddox from the corner of my eye turn and look at us.
"No he's teaching me a lot too."
This was so embarrassing, he was right there.
Rick laughed out loud and then slapped me hard on the back, making it feel like he just punched me as he stated slapping me on the back, his laugh filling the entire room.
'Ouch.'
With that, I followed Rick and Maddox out as I was the last one to leave because of Rick laughing at me, once they stopped and talked to someone asking them a question I decided to just sneak away and go to the first floor, where the light machines were.
Being around Rick was exhausting and being around Maddox for more than ten minutes made me feel lightheaded and intimidated, especially every time he touched me or when I had to touch him.
I needed to calm down, my heartbeat was still beating out of control, so I found something to try and then sat down and read the instructions on how to use the machine.
Pec press machine...
I felt like an idiot just reading how to use it, I had never used anything like this before or even thought about using something like this, muscle building wasn't exactly something I was interested in but I gave it a try anyways.
Adjusting the weights to something lighter, I sat back down on the bench and then gripped the handles on either side of me and then I pulled them into my chest.
What....the fuck, so heavy... and I only put 20KG on, which didn't seem like a lot but now I'm thinking I should've just picked the lightest one, the 5k.
"Um hi..." I heard a voice making me freeze and turn to my left.
"Are you alright?"
It was the girl from earlier, I think her name was Claire, she was staring at me with worry in her eyes and I didn't need to guess why.
I felt like I was dying pulling this crap, why was it so damn hard to just pull these things?
But most importantly, why was this girl talking to me?
"You should try the 10k, the 20 is a little..."
I felt so lame, not only could I not lift 20k but now someone, a cute girl had seen me at my worst, I am so pathetic I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Maybe I'll just go home.
"Thanks," I nervously said, getting up from the machine.
"I actually was just finishing up so… Bye."
I didn't say anything else as I walked away, not wanting to embarrass myself further as I clenched my bag tightly in my hands and headed for the exit, knowing that there's a bus in thirty minutes but I couldn't stay here any longer without bursting into flames.
So, God-damn lame.
"Theo wait up," I heard a deep voice call me, stopping and turning as I reached the exit door.
Maddox was jogging over to me, holding something in his hands and when he finally reached me, he looked me over with a frown on his face.
"I forgot to give you your diet plan yesterday," he said, handing me the paper as I stared down at it dumbly.
"Oh."
Right... for a moment there I thought he wanted something else.
"Thanks, I'll uh... I'll stick to it," I said smiling nervously as he looked at me, his eyes going from my face to my bag.
I thought he looked like he wanted to say something more but he didn't as he took a step back and nodded to me, his left hand rubbing the back of his neck and his eyes moving from mine.
"I'll see you Friday..."
Is all he said before he walked away, walking to the front desk where there stood girls, waiting for Maddox.
What was that about?
Did I do something wrong?
He looked mad.
I watched him for a moment longer before leaving and walking to my bus stop, each step worse than the next as my whole body felt like it was shaking and aching in pain.
Did I push myself too much?
Why did this hurt so much?
I felt like I was dying.
I just wanted to go home and sleep it off and hope that tomorrow I felt better because for some reason, I felt like I was getting sick...
Dammit, this was just my luck.
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Friends
I don't understand friendships.
For as long as I can remember, I tried so hard to make friends. But to no avail. No one wanted me.
I used to be so happy, but as years passed, I realised the outcome would always be the same.
People always give up on me. Betray me.
And the worst part is, I don't even know what I'm doing wrong.
I may not be the funniest, smartest, kindest or prettiest, but I thought I could atleast have a real friendship.
Is that too much to ask?
Just when I thought I finally got rid of those thoughts. When I started to think things might be getting better. They never do.
***
I pulled an all-nighter.
I wanted to surprise my friend Daisy by sending her a text message saying "Happy birthday!" the second midnight came.
Even thought I was really tired and didn't sleep well for a few weeks, I still did it and carefully chose the best birthday emojis I could find.
She didn't check her messages until 7:20.
Seeing the message she sent, thanking me, a wave of happiness took over me.
When I arrived to school, I spotted our small group of friends gathered around the birthday girl.
When I arrived, They asked her who told her Happy Birthday first, to which she answered:
- "Melissa did"
...
Melissa?
That can't be possible.
I send her that text the second it was midnight.
It would have been practically impossible for Melissa to beat me to it.
Even if she did, Daisy didn't check her messages until morning, so she could not have known who sent it to her first.
Did she mean in real life then?
Does that mean my message meant nothing to her?
Melissa's "Happy birthday" was more important to her than mine?
I tried to ignore the thoughts and went to class.
***
In history class, me, Daisy and Yanmei (not Yan Mei, she tends to get offended about that) were working on a research project.
I don't really like working with them since they always exclude me, talk during the project and then shame me for not doing any work even tho they are the reason I could not concentrate on what I was reading.
But I'm trapped with them for the rest of the year since I don't have any friends thanks to my wonderful social skills.
I already don't really like Yan Mei because she always talks to me rudely and makes sneaky remarks about me or my work.
Like today she asked us who was doing the part about the causes and when I told her it was me she then sarcastically said that she was enthusiastic about working with me next time. She did not elaborate after that and my work was fine, so I wonder what she has against me.
But I don't understand Daisy.
Daisy is the type of girl to tell you she only wants to work with you because when you add another person to the team (referring to Yanmei and Kaylie) you get a bad grade and then laugh with them the whole class.
I don't even understand if she likes Yanmei or not. She told me she was organizing a birthday party this weekend, but when Yanmei asked what she was doing the weekend she asked her why she wanted to know, which makes me wonder if she even invited her at all.
I don't get it. Seeing the way they laugh in class and ignore me, I would assume she was closer to her than to me.
Whatever.
***
In chemistry class, I was scared I'd fall asleep in front of everyone.
I was fighting not to close my eyes during the teacher's lecture. Then came time to work with our friends.
I did not get up to sit with Daisy.
The guy sitting next to her did not move from his spot, so I patiently waited for her to come sit with me since the spot next to me was empty.
I waited a long time.
The rest of the class to say the least.
She was too occupied talking to Yanmei to try to talk to me.
In that moment, I wanted the world to burn. I wanted everyone to be as sad and lonely as I was. I wanted them to feel what I feel.
I wanted her to feel what I feel.
Obviously, I didn't say anything and my anger faded away eventually.
Then Daisy walked past me.
She ignored me.
***
In our next class, she finally tried to make small talk with me, only because my seat was next to here while Yanmei's was too far away for them to talk. The nerves.
Afterwards, we left class and got ready to leave. I waited for Daisy since we always go together, but then I saw her walk towards Melissa.
Then Melissa, Daisy, Yanmei and I left together. In the hallway, while walking, they didn't leave enough space for me to walk beside them, so I had to walk behind. They all ignored me and pretended like I was invisible.
Also, they all have this habit of ignoring what I say and then repeat what I said a few seconds later and then laugh at my stolen comment.
I really don't know how to make friends.
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