#i regret not bringing a book tho. i almost brought a book since i got here early and figured id chill at my seat during intermission.

[agentmika]

about to see The Godfather for the first time ever with a live symphony playing the soundtrack 😌

[prurjent]

Yandere Armin

Contains~ Stockholm syndrome, manipulating, gaslighting, fem receivingc male receiving. Slight praising. Kitchen sex.

In honor of my summer break starting}

Backstory ~ y/n was kidnapped by her neighbor Armin Arlert, who developed a crush on her. Due to y/n not noticing Armins feelings, he decided to take away everything she loved till she felt the same.

Over the 4 months y/n was held captive by Armin, he would slowly tease her, but he would not rape her he had morals (ironic) so therefore he gave her sympathy till she fell in love and begged for him.

➳ begin

You sat on the queen size bed in your room staring out the window, looking out onto the ranch. From here you can see the whole farm and all the animals. As you stare out the window you could see Armin in the chicken coop running from the chickens as he had a basket in his hand.

You let out a small laugh to which you slightly regret. It’s been 4 months since armins taken you and he hasn’t even touched you. You gave up on escaping, they all resulted in you begging for Armin to help you.

You were confused it was like he wasn’t stopping you to leave. Every time you got hurt trying to escape you’d cry out and armin would patch you up and cater to you. Even though he kidnapped you it doesn’t even seem as tho, he brings you home cooked meals and gets stuff from the store in the next town for you.

You couldn’t help but start to fall for him, along with him being extremely attractive and good with his words. You picked up your book, it a basically a more complex version to the Disney movie, ‘beauty and the beast’. It was your favorite princess movie.

“You hungry? I made dinner , and I’ll be doing the laundry.” He said before his footsteps faded. You got up and showered before taking your book and going downstairs to see Armin at the table eating his food quietly. You sat at the table and ate while reading. In the book you notice the similarities between the beast and armin both caring people in they own twisted ways.

“Armin” you spoke looking at your half eaten plate, when you heard him hum you continued. “How, come you are being so nice to me?”

Armin raised and eyebrow, “why? Do you want me to be mean to you?”

“No. It’s just that you’re keeping me here-”

Armin leaned forward and wiped his mouth. “I’m not keeping you here.”

“Yes you are”

“No. I’m not” Armin raised his voice a bit. “You can leave whenever you want. I won’t stop you.” He said his blue eyes getting dark. “But it always ends with you crawling back to me and I care for you because I love you.”

“You love me?”

“Yes I love you. Why do you think I brought you here? I brought you here to protect you from the dangers of the world, y/n. There were bad people out there planning to hurt you. If you think about it I saved you.”

You looked up into armins eyes to see he was being sincere. “You were. I’m sorry, For being rude” you spoke.

Armin sighed. “It’s fine just go to your room while I clean up.” He began to get up.

“No let me wash the dishes.” You got up and grabbed his plate. Armin just watched you but didn’t complain as he went upstairs to shower. “Stupid.” You mentally cursed at yourself.

You’re heart was telling you that he was being honest, while your head was telling you he is lying. But when you think more into, Armin was always there when you need him before. When you got fired from your job, and helped you pay your bills and get you a new job. He was there when your fiancé left you for someone new.

He was always there

Without noticing, Armin came back downstairs and placed his hands over yours to stop you from almost cutting yourself while cleaning the knife. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yea, I’m fine.” You felt your heart racing, as you looked up to see him with a white towel around his waist water dripping from his hair, and a blonde happy trail. “Uh, Armin.”

Armin cut you off by grabbing your chin and lifting it up, your eyes met and you basically melted looking into his arms. ‘𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢’ those words repeated in your head.

Without hesitate you leaned up and placed your lips onto his, shockinghim slightly before he gripped your waist. You weren’t sure about your feelings yet but you knew one thing. You felt a desire for Armin.

~~~~~~~

“Shit.” Armin moaned out softly as he gripped the counter behind him, his knuckles turning red. His plump bottom lip was enclosed between his teeth as he had his other hand over his eyes, with his head thrown back facing the roof. “Y/n”

You pulled away from armin’s his length twitching in your hand as you palmed him, jerking him. You kneeled forward placing a kiss on his v-line, causing a shiver to run up his back. His hand that was over his face fell down and gripped your hair, shoving his cock back in your mouth. He pushed your head onto him till your nose made contact with his abdomen and you were gagging, tears ran down your face, as you used your free hand to massage his balls.

Armin pulled you off as he looked down and licked his lips at the sight of your saliva connecting from your lips to his tip. Some of your saliva was dripping down the sides of your lips onto your plump breast. “You look so beautiful.” He spoke lifting you up and placing a hand on your cheek and pulling you into a kiss.

Armin lifted you up by the back of your legs setting you on the counter and his hands went under your sundress. “Armin..” you moaned into the kiss

“You know I would never hurt you right?” He spoke as he pulled from kiss looking at you, you nodded and he flashed a pearly white smiled before he leaned down and kissed your neck.

You felt tingles in your stomach, as your body temperature was rising. Armins slender fingers pulled your panties to the side before gliding up your wet clit. You moaned out, your hand flying up and gripped his shoulder. It’s been so long since you’ve lasted been touched.

His long finger slid into you with ease as you buried your face into his shoulder. Your other hand holding you steady on the counter. “Will you let me?”

“What?” You breathed out heavy as he pulled his fingers from your entrance causing you to whine only for him to stick his fingers into your mouth.

“Will you let me, please you.” He asked politely, you nodded as you continued to suck on his fingers, your tongue swirling around, collecting your juices that was lavished on his fingers before he pulled his hand from you and got on his knees.

Armin lifted your right leg up and kissed along your thigh, teasing you. “Armin.” You whined out, wanting more, he smirked at how impatient you were being and flipped your dress up. He blew on your clit causing you to moan before he glided his tongue along your entrance.

Your free hand gripped his hair as he handed his finger into you. Your nails digging in his scalp. Y you felt his fingers pump in and out of you along with his tongue. Armin felt your walls closing down on his fingers. He knew you’d be sensitive since it’s been a while since you had any pleasure. Before you could cum he pulled away.

“Will you leave me, y/n?” He asked in the most innocent voice he could muster. “If you leave, I’ll be alone, and sad, heartbroken.” He whispered placing kisses on your entrance after every word. “Do you want me to be alone?”

You looked at his doe liked blue eyes along with his wet pouty pink lips. You bit your lip as you shook your head no. “Good” he stood up still pumping his fingers in and out of you. He gripped your throat with his free hand, pulling you into a kiss “cum y/n” he ordered squeezing your neck.

As on command your toes curled and your back arched with your legs shaking. As you came on his fingers, “good girl.” He kissed your forehead.

❅part two

[theburninggalaxy]

Finally woke up early enough to take my meds and holy fuck I love my meds

Is my anxiety worse? Yes. Is my mouth a bit dry? Yes. Is my heart rate a bit faster? Yes. Is my appetite slightly weird? Yes.

But I'm calm. I don't want to scream from boredom. I took a shower and brushed my teeth. I might actually get some work done and if not I'm gonna be able to play a game I've been wanting to play for a while or continue with a project I've been working on or read a book I've been wanting to read for ages. Without my meds I can't do any of those things, they aren't stimulating enough.

These meds are genuinely life changing, for me at least, and literally my only regret with them is that I wasn't more insistent when I first brought up adhd to my parents cause if I was I would've been diagnosed a couple years earlier and as such would've been able to get on medication sooner.

My life rn is a massive middle finger to my teachers who said that I don't have adhd or autism I just have executive functioning issues (aka, my outward presentation isn't hyperactive) and some social issues (aka, I can mask in environments where I'd be talking to a teacher about it) and my father who said that if I took meds I'd be "irreparably chemically altering my brain" and "giving up when all I need to do is try harder" and "why would I want to take those, I'm smart". Cause I'm taking adhd meds, and they've drastically improved my life. And I have my autism diagnosis and use my accommodations at school.

Without my diagnoses I'd probably be repeating this year of school. I started my meds in the last term of school and my grades went from Cs and Bs to As and A*s essentially overnight. Partially cause I was finally able to study and partially cause I could finally listen in class instead of hearing the first 5 minutes and then zoning out for the other 55. I'm not top of the class by any means, but 6 months ago I didn't think I'd be going into y13 this September let alone doing so on track to get A*AA with a chance to get higher if I work hard enough.

Without my autism diagnosis I wouldn't be allowed to bring my stim tools to school or leave class if I get overwhelmed or listen to music as I work or wear my noise cancelling headphones in lessons and if I couldn't do those things I wouldn't be able to keep up in lessons.

Without either diagnosis I wouldn't be entitled to extra time in my exams, without which I wouldn't have got anywhere close to finishing any of my a level maths exams and I would definitely have to be retaking those exams, if not the entire year, as I would have been forced to skip about 15% of the marks on each paper and would've been unable to check another 10%. That margin could've taken me from an A/A* to a C or a D. Tho I don't know what I've got yet so there is a chance I'll still have to retake, but its a lot lower than it was 6 months ago. I'd get the accommodations I got in my GCSEs, but that didn't include extra time cause they were unable to prove that I needed it cause I don't get visibly distracted in class and I didn't have a diagnosis.

My meds aren't stopping me from being academically smart, or damaging my brain, or letting me give up. They allow me to live my life in the way that I want to live it and they allow me to try instead of just doing nothing.

Is medication the right choice for everyone? No, of course not. And some people want to take meds for some things and not others (e.g. I take adhd meds but not anxiety or depression meds even tho I have all three of those things) But that doesn't mean that meds aren't a tool that a lot of people find to be life changing.

I heard so many times before I started that I was making a mistake, that I'm fine, that I'll just end up dependent on them. Since starting them almost everyone in my life has commented how much happier, more energetic, more focused, more productive I am. And yeah maybe I am dependent on my meds to function. The same way non-adhd people are dependent on the exact same chemicals to function.

I just hate the narrative that cause I have natural academic ability that I shouldn't need my meds. Natural ability means jack shit if I am unable to use it, all my meds to is make the barriers to using it less insurmountable.

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Ch. 24 of 27: Graduation

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

Choose Me Instead Masterlist

Words: 3.2k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post-war Warnings: mentions of mental health issues incl. self-harm (only in like 2 sentences tho)

Four weeks until graduation …

Draco Malfoy and you were over. Whatever glimpse of happiness and fleeting bliss had been bestowed upon you – it was gone. It was gone and you were alone again. In your head, you replayed your last time together over and over and over until you felt sick to your stomach. For months did you pretend not to feel anything for him beyond friendship but damn, you loved him. You loved with him with every fiber of your body. Every thought on every day was devoted to him and him only. You looked for him in the hallways, glanced at him during class and each time your eyes met, another piece of your heart broke.

To be quite honest, you weren’t worried about yourself as much as you worried about him. You spoke to Theo from time to time, asking him about Draco. He told you exactly what you had suspected all along: his dreams had gotten worse. He skipped therapy sessions, spent his days scribbling in his black notebook instead. You knew it wasn’t fair to you but you still couldn’t help but blame yourself.

During meals, you watched him with Astoria who was glued to his side. To your surprise, she seemed happier. Even though she grew paler with each day she wore a smile on her face. An honest, happy smile. You heard her laugh and wondered if it had been this beautiful all the time. You watched her talk to Draco with a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. You wanted to hate her but seeing her like this? It certainly made it harder for you to do so. Still, each time you saw them walking to class or sit outside on the grass, your stomach plummeted and on particularly bad days, tears filled your eyes.

Eventually, you grew sick of feeling this way. You had fought hard for your own happiness to return after all the shit you went through and to now have it taken away from you in an instant by him felt humiliating. The whole mess started because you wanted to hurt Ron. So how did you end up hurting instead?

You tried tuning out the pain by burying yourself in work. Studying, quidditch training, stupid parties in the Gryffindor common room – you tried anything and everything to numb down the pain. It worked. For the most part. However, your thoughts always began to stray after a while. As soon as his image popped up in your mind, you pinched yourself as if you were trying to wake up from a bad dream. One time, you did it during a therapy session and Merlin, did you regret that. The lecture about self-harm that followed was definitely not worth it.

The days grew warmer. Sunlight fell through the dusty windows of the Hogwarts classrooms, the smell of flowers and freshly cut grass filled the air. Summer had begun to knock on the door. You weren’t ready to open it yet. Once summer arrived, your life would change once again.

However, before that happened you still had to get through your exams. You dreaded the thought of taking them. These past months … well, to put it gently, your focus hadn’t been on school exactly. Sure, you spent hours upon hours in the library but you weren’t sure how much of the things you read actually stuck with you.

“Ready?”, Ginny asked you the morning of your final exams.

You glanced at her and shook your head. She laughed. “Come on, it won’t be that bad. We’ve taken thousands of exams, we’ll get through it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Y/N doesn’t achieve the grades she needs to become an auror,” Hermione chimed in matter-of-factly. “That’s the worst that can happen.”

“Thanks, Mione,” you said dryly.

She smiled at you apologetically. “It won’t come to this, don’t worry. You got this. We all do.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

 ***

Two weeks until graduation …

You sat together with Ginny and Hermione at the Black Lake, feet dangling in the water, eyes closed as you enjoyed the sunrays warming your face. Ginny kept on talking about the tryouts for the Holyhead Harpies that would take place just a few days after graduation while you and Hermione only occasionally commented. You reassured her that she would do just fine. After all, there was no doubt in your mind that Ginny Weasley would join the team and have a successful quidditch career ahead of her.

After a while, the conversation shifted. Hermione worried about the amount of reading she had to do before her internship at the Ministry of Magic started, and you snorted. “They don’t expect you to know everything about the job beforehand, y’know?”

“Well, good impressions are important,” she replied.

During the whole afternoon, the topic of your future plans didn’t come up. Your friends sensed your apprehension regarding that particular topic. After the utter debacle that was your exams, you tried to forget that you were supposed to have an idea of what to do with your life in just about two weeks. You still waited on a letter from the Ministry, waited for the news that your plan had worked out. That you could become an auror, a dream you had since you could think. Yet, you screwed up and you weren’t sure if your performance in the final exams was enough to get you a placement. Thankfully, your parents were still too wound up in the whole drama Alissa brought with her. They didn’t even ask how your exams went and you weren’t mad. The importance of exams paled in comparison to the prospect of a life sentence in Azkaban.

A bee buzzed close to your ear and you opened your eyes again.

 ***

One week before graduation …

“You look horrible, darling.”

You rolled your eyes when Theo appeared by your side. You were on your way to the Great Hall, earlier than usual in an attempt to study a few more minutes in the library before your first class. “Thank you, Theodore. Just what a woman wants to hear before breakfast.”

He snickered. “Apologies.” Then he held his hands out, motioning you to give him some of the books in your arms to help you carry them.

“Accepted,” you said and gave him the whole pile of books instead. He groaned and you chuckled at him. “How are you then?”, you asked.

“Relieved about the fact that school is almost over.” He dodged a first year student who ran past him and one books slid dangerously close to the edge of the pile. You were surprised by how many students were already awake.

“Any plans for what comes after?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Travel.”

You looked at him in surprise. “Travel?”

“Blaise and I are going to travel around Europe for a few months,” he explained. “I need to get out of the country where everyone knows me as ‘that Death Eaters kid’ and Blaise is simply loaded with money and doesn’t want to work.” The two of you laughed at the last statement. “And afterwards …” Theo shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

“That sounds nice,” you sighed. “When will you leave?”

“After Draco’s wed-” He stopped midsentence. “Ah, shit.”

You bit your tongue. Actually bit it. “It’s official then,” you said softly. “I haven’t seen the announcement yet.”

Theo stopped. You had almost reached the Great Hall. The Slytherin looked at you with sympathy. “It’ll come out today.” He lowered his voice: “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You avoided his gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Theodore stayed quiet until you resumed your walk. “For what it’s worth, he doesn’t love her,” he finally said. The statement hurt even more.

“What a fucking mess we made.”

Theo nodded. He didn’t say anything else. When you walked into the Great Hall, he handed you the books back and softly squeezed your arm before mumbling: “I’m really sorry.”

He was right – the Daily Prophet printed the announcement of the wedding on that same day. Yet, when an owl dropped the paper onto your plate, you were oddly calm. You lowered the glass of orange juice carefully and rolled up the newspaper. Their picture was on the front page.

Astoria’s beauty was unlike anything you had ever seen. She wore a simple black dress and was glowing in the picture. She smiled widely as her gaze switched between Draco and the camera. Spooky how different she looked. You wondered if they had used magic to hide the circles underneath her eyes and the sunken-in cheeks. Draco stood beside her, wearing his trademark simple, black suit. His back was straight, his eyes focused on the camera. He didn’t smile.

As if you had felt his stare, you looked up. Draco sat across the hall at the Slytherin table, Greengrass – his fiancée – by his side who excitedly showed the article to Parkinson. You forced yourself to smile but it didn’t reach your eyes. He turned away. Just in time to miss the tears you had to blink away.

This isn’t right, you thought, none of this is right.

 ***

One day before graduation …

Tears streamed down your face as another sob shook your body. You stared at the letter in your hand, reading it over and over again. At this point, you had memorized every word but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,

When an owl brought you the letter, you didn’t open it immediately. You didn’t want to do it in front of your friends, already sensing what was written inside of it. So instead you grabbed it and went to the bleachers of the Quidditch field. High up above, where no one would interrupt you.

We regret to inform you …

It wasn’t entirely unsuspected but it didn’t hinder the tears from dwelling up. Before you knew it, they streamed down your face. Cold fear gripped your heart. This is it, you thought, it’s all over now. Your entirely life you wanted to become an auror. You had no plan b, no other option, it had always been this. And now you failed.

“Y/N?” The voice caused you to whirl around. “What happened?” Draco. His eyes widened in shock and concern when he saw your face. With three long strides he crossed the distance between the two of you.

“Draco …”, you whimpered and then he was there, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered and held you tighter. Instinctively, you relaxed against his body and let him embrace you. It felt so right. “Shh, it’s fine, it’s all going to be fine.” He repeated over and over. Sobs shook your body while your tears drenched his uniform. It felt as if hours had passed until you finally began to calm down. With each shaking breath, the scent of his cologne wrapped itself around you.

“What happened?”, Draco asked again when no more sobs escaped you and you quietly buried your face in his shoulders. Without a word, you held up the letter. A few seconds passed and Draco snorted. “Well, their loss,” he said, audibly disgusted.

You whimpered another time. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve done more, I-I …” You wiped over your eyes. “What do I do now, Draco?”

He sighed before he answered: “Anything you want. Y/N, you’re intelligent, clever, witty, beautiful – you can do anything you want.”

“Except for becoming an auror,” you scoffed.

“Maybe. So what?” He shrugged. “Fuck them. It’s their loss.”

You remained silent. Draco had his arms still wrapped around you. In this position, you almost forgot your situation. This felt so … normal. So right, so natural. As if it was meant to be. As if he was the one to hold you in this exact moment. You thought about asking why he was up here on this night but held your tongue. A part of you wanted to believe that it was because of you. Everything started up here on the bleachers, last year in September. Right here, the two of you talked for the first time in years. A conversation, you could recall to this day. Everything began here. Maybe he came back because he hoped to find you here. You wanted to believe that.

“It’s all I ever wanted to do,” you whispered after a moment. “I don’t have a plan b. I –” Another tear rolled down your cheek. He looked at you, his grey eyes full of love and adoration, and wiped it away.

“You’re hurting, I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s going to be alright though, I promise.”

You smiled sadly. “Everything goes to shit in my life, everything! The fucking war is over and yet I can’t seem to catch a fucking breath.”

“I believe, the war will stay with us for a lot longer than we thought,” Draco whispered. He didn’t let go of you as he watched the castle in the distance. The sun begun to set and drowned the Scottish landscape in its golden light. It was a marvelous sight.

Sudden music caused you to flinch. A group of seventh year students had arrived on the Quidditch field. Loud voices and laughter mixed with the rhythm of a new popular song. They weren’t from your house, you realized.

“I should leave,” Draco said. And when you recognized Astoria’s high-pitched scream as a drunken Blaise picked her up, you knew why he was here to begin with. Not for you. For them.

“Yes, right, I’m sorry.” You cleared your throat and sat up straight. Draco let go of you reluctantly before he got up. He looked at you and you wondered if he was going to say something. But even if he wanted to, he didn’t. He only nodded and then made his way towards the stairs.

“I feel as if I should congratulate you on the engagement but …”, you suddenly spoke up.

Draco stopped and glanced at you. “Don’t.”

You saw how a shadow flickered over his face. Then you remembered something else. “Wait, I have something for you.” You reached inside your back and pulled out a picture. He looked at you in surprise when he gave it to you. It was a picture of you two from the last Christmas, taken during a dinner. Draco had his arm wrapped around you and raised a glass of wine, an amused smirk on his face. You laughed in it, covering your mouth with your hand. It was the only picture of the two of you but you loved it. It showed Draco the way he truly was. The way he made you feel every time you looked at him.

“You carried it with you this whole time?”, he asked softly. He held the picture so carefully as if he was afraid to accidentally damage it.

You gave a half shrug. “Only for the last few days. I hoped to catch you alone at some point.”

“Thank you.”

“Will I see you?”

He looked up at the question.

“After graduation, I mean?”, you clarified. “Maybe send me an owl once or twice a year? I need to know you’re okay.”

“So you can rip out my heart again, little Gryffindor?”

You opened and closed your mouth at the statement. Draco chuckled. “I’ll do it. If you promise me to reply.”

“I promise.”

You didn’t know it yet but Draco would keep his promise. However, when you received his first letter, you broke yours.

 ***

A few weeks after graduation …

The last day of school came and went. Funny how you had expected it to be filled with tears and laughter when, in the end, it was just another insignificant day of the year. To be fair, some tears had been shed. Long hugs with your friends and promises to stay in touch were shared on the train station in King’s Cross before all of you parted ways.

Your parents picked you up. They looked like mere shells of themselves as they kissed you on the cheek. A lump formed in your throat when you saw their sad faces. They had aged immensely in these past few months, the stress had left deep wrinkles and tired eyes behind.

They didn’t speak much on this day. They only hugged you when you told them about the rejection from the Ministry. “I’m so sorry, darling,” your father had mumbled, “you’ll find something else, I’m sure.” A part of you was relieved they didn’t ask any further questions.

The next morning, your mother had asked you if you wanted to see Alissa. You didn’t. You couldn’t. The mere mention of her name made you grit your teeth. Alissa was the reason for all the suffering in your family’s life. For all the heartbreak and tears. All the sisterly feelings had shrunken during the past year. Now you were left with rage and hatred when you heard her name.

“Will you please come to the court hearing in two weeks then?”, your mother had asked when she noticed the expression on your face and you had agreed.

And here you were. Standing in your kitchen, a cup of freshly brewed tea in your hand while you listened to your parents screaming at each other upstairs. You had just come home from the hearing and now looked outside into the garden. The roses, once your mother’s pride and joy, were neglected, you noticed. Their heads hung, most of them dried up from the summer sun.

“Twenty-five years in Azkaban,” you mumbled to yourself. Alissa’s future. Twenty-five years locked away on an island. You had hoped the sentence would give you satisfaction. It didn’t. Instead it frightened you. Would Alissa survive this? Twenty-five years without seeing her family? Would your mother survive it? Or would she wither like the roses in her garden?

You took a sip of your tea and wondered how your life changed once again, now that the problem of Alissa was finally … resolved. It ended. The anxious waiting, the not knowing … it all ended. By now, she would have already arrived in the prison cell that would be her home for the years to come.

You hadn’t spoken to her. You had watched her in the courtroom while she didn’t look up at your family. During the whole hearing, her eyes were locked on the ground and she remained silent. It was the strangest sight – the broken-down woman in the dirty dress wasn’t your sister. The fiery spirit inside her had left a long time ago together with her beauty and wits. You stared at Alissa, desperately trying to find a glimpse of the sister you once knew and loved. You were unsuccessful. This woman was a stranger and your sister was dead. And you wanted nothing more than to simply move on.

“The nerve this family has,” your father muttered behind you. “Unbelievable.”

You sat the tea cup down on the counter and turned to him. The screaming had stopped, you realized. You had been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed how your father came downstairs again.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked.

Your father shook his head and handed you an envelope without another word. Your gaze fell onto the dark green emblem printed on the back and suddenly, your throat felt very, very dry. You’d recognize the sign anywhere. With shaking hands you opened the envelope and pulled out a card. 

“Can you believe it?”, your father asked. “They actually have the nerve to invite us to his wedding?”

***

A/N: I hope you liked it! Feedback is always appreciated! We’re almost finished with this story, I’m so sad btw.

CHAPTER 25

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[flappingdragon200]

Nozel Silva: The Demons' Vampire

A/N: This turned out to be a one chapter story instead of a one shot headcanon lol. Anyways, enjoy!!!!

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Honestly, this wasn't how he imagined himself to be in the future. Biting someone's neck, and sucking it until the human vesicle was nothing but rotten black flesh and bones, turning into black ash. He himself was surprised (again) as when he woke up next week's morning, having the thirst for blood. It sickened him to his bottom-dwelling rotten core.

How the hell did this even get this far... Nozel thought as he grabbed a fist full of his silver hair and pulled harshly, too tired to care about the pain, then massaging where he pulled at.

He still remembers the day he killed his first victim. It was disgusting, but satisfying, as he put it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was cold. The moon shined down on the Clover Kingdom. The wind was chilly as it danced in the air. On the streets, citizens walking about. And a royal who laid in his soft queen-sized bed, sleeping soundly, shallow breaths could be heard from his slumber. But something was off. Very off.

He woke up, feeling hungry, and angry. He threw the covers off him and marched out his room door slowly. (As it was still night outside and he was feeling tired.)

He quietly walked down the halls, of Solid's and Nebra's rooms, not wanting to wake them up. (Solid is a light sleeper and if he is disturbed he will go on full rage mode and destroy shit, which will then alert Nebra and she will start wreaking havoc as well.)

When Nozel was finally passed their rooms he began to speed walk over to the ginormous kitchen that they had.

Once he was in the kitchen, he opened the large ass fridge they had and looked for at least a snack or just something to satisfy his hunger until breakfast. His stomach growled so he quickly grabbed an apple that was saved for dessert today after dinner. But did he care? Nope. He was hungry.

Nozel walked into the living room where he would normally read his book in the morning. (One of those fantasy Novels as Yami puts it lol. Many chapters tho.) He sat down on his favorite spot and started to eat the apple while thinking of what he has to do today.

I have paperwork to do today so I'll get that done first... Then I have a business meeting at 3... Then I train solid at 6PM... Maybe I'll take short breaks here and there to ease my mind? I don't kn-

Shank!

Nozel's eyes widened a little startled at the sound. As he was taking another bite of his apple, he felt his teeth sink into it further than they were earlier. The apple turned to back and faded away as it turned to ash in his hands. It felt as if his teeth just rapidly grew into sharp pointy fangs.

Nozel sat there in silence. He had no idea what had just happened. It happened so quickly he didn't have time to react. He slowly got up from his seat and went to the bathroom in pure horror.

He got to the bathroom and turned on the lights, turned to the mirror, and almost screamed in pure shock, but instead the air was knocked out of him after he had seen his disturbing reflection.

His eyes were bloodshot, black soon closing in from the ends of his eyes. Sharp teeth, or known as fangs hung from his mouth, while large amounts of drool dripped down from his open wide mouth. His skin turned into white, not how it was earlier, almost looking like a ghost in human form.

Nozel backed up afraid. He was scared of himself. His eyes traveled all over his face in search of a prank. He pinched himslef to see if it was a dream. No. This wasn't fake, this was real. His eyes were pitch black his pupils were grey-ish white, looking like a monsters' eyes, and his stomach growled louder. He was growing hungry by the second. He didn't know what to do.

Nozel got up as he recalled the memory. The way he stalked the girl walking down the hallway and into her servant bedroom. How he waited for it to be silent to enter. How he walked closer to her and sank his fangs into her neck. The way she screamed, killed him in the inside. He regrets everything he's done.

Nozel looks out his balcony window and the sun is starting to rise, which means it's almost 6 o'clock. Nozel sighed as he walked to the bathroom and turned on the lights.

He opened up the cabinet underneath the sink and got a single blood packet out and sank his fangs into it letting them suck all of the red liquid out of the bag. His nose scrunched up in bitter disgust. And he snarled as he felt himself replenish his energy. He hated himself. He hated who he became, who he is. He hates his existence entirely.

He wishes he could go back to normal. But when one makes a deal with the devil... They don't go without being unharmed.

He remembers when he saw the face of the warlock that had cursed him 2 weeks ago. His face was soft, his skin was pale, like his. A smile on his face. His height, towering over him. A calming yet destructive aura. His smooth, shiny short black hair. His cold and warm red and pink eyes. The peacefulness that lied in his voice.

Nozel would be lying if he said he didn't have a small tiny crush on the taller male. He may deny it but he knows he does. A small pink hue made it's way and sat onto his cheeks as he thought of the warlock. He remembers the words he said to him, the first time hearing his calming voice.

"I can see that you are struggling in magic power and strength. Let me help you get stronger. How about we make a deal..."

The first mistake was even looking at him. The second, accepting the proposal. And third... Making a deal with The Devil. He knew he should have put more caution and thought into it. But it was something about his presence that made his body react sooner than his mind ever could. Now he knows to be more careful when approaching someone new and untrustworthy. He'll make sure he thinks twice before approaching.

By now after reciting all the memories from just 2 weeks ago he was almost done getting dressed. All he needed to do was put in his cloak and wrap his satchel around his waist with his grimoire inside. (after that)

Nozel walked to a desk with a fairly large mirror and hair products and along with a few hair brushes and combs. Nozel picked up the brush and started to untangle all the knots that were in his hair from a night's rest.

The pain of the de-tangling reminded him of his training with the warlock. How many times he fell onto his knees when sparing with him. The times where he was forced into doing chores for stamina and muscle. And the times he trained his magic to form into water, and steel. After his training was done he was 10x more stronger than he was before he met the warlock. He's pissed that he had listened to every command the warlock threw at him. He hated that he was bossed around by a demon, in disguise.

Nozel grit his teeth in annoyance and hatred. But the pull of a knot pulled him out of self-agony. He remembered what he was doing now.

A few minutes of wrestling with his hair he finally had gotten rid of the knots and tangles. He ran his fingers through the shiny and silky smooth like hair and thought of how he touched it. How he brushed it. How he braided it. How he took care of it. (Talking about the warlock when I say "he")

Nozel stopped and shook his head slightly to bring him out of thought and continue to style his hair.

He picked up the gel from a near corner of the desk and opened it to apply it to his resting sides of hair so that the strands won't get in his eyes and so it's off of his shoulders. After finishing, he placed the gel back in it's original spot and opened a drawer with a small box inside it.

The box was decorated with a small black ribbon at the top formed in a lightly tied bow. The box was a gold yellow color with darker lines of gold running across covered in a small amount of silver and gold glitter, with smaller black lines outlining the bigger stripes. And then there was a note beside it that said,

"It's a spare. Use it when you can't find your other one. Take care love." - Nivira.

Nozel felt a small smile form on his lips as he picked up the box.

Nivira was his best friend since childhood and before he met Fuegoleon. She stayed by his side and protected him, stood up for him, and encouraged him. She was the best friend he had ever had. That was until... She was dragged away from her home by her parents and sold as a servant for some higher group of nobles. But after a long time of trying to find her, Nozel found her in a dark ally way shortcut all bruised up and heavily wounded with obvious broken bones. So he brought her back to his estate and treated her wounds until she was back in shape again.

She has dedicated her life to him and will never leave his side again. It was like he had a personal bodyguard. Nivira might say that she's only staying by his side because he needs protection in this dark and cruel world, but deep down Nozel knows that she's scared that she might get sold again or something worse. So he started to train her and invited her to stay at House Silva as long as she wants and that she's always welcomed here.

Nozel closed his eyes as he imagines what she looked like. Blue hair with a bit of black dye at the top. A toothy grin on her face. Lightly tanned skin. Greenish blueish eyes. Her small form standing 5.1 in front of him. Her nails painted black and grey. And her enormous energy, fighting spirit, and childish behavior. He loved her the way she was. She brought the light to him when the darkness was threatening to swallow him whole.

He's grateful for her. And she's grateful for him.

Nozel pulled the lightly tied bow and it came undone. He opened the lid to the box and there he saw, A blue Silva pendant in the middle of black foam. It was made out of the most hardest metal the both of them could find. He placed the box onto the desk and started to braid his bangs. After he was done he took the pendant carefully in between his fingers and pinned it to the tip of the braid.

He looked into the mirror and smiled, Perfect.  He thought.

He stood up and put the box back in the drawer and closed it tight.

But happy times always end. And that's when it hit him. The realization that he forgot he's having breakfast with his siblings at 7:45. He looked over to the clock and it said 6:37.

I still have maybe an hour or more to spare... Nozel thought and opened the door and closed it silently when he walked out of his room making sure not to disturb any servants that are still sleeping. (Servants get up at 7 o'clock)

He walked down the hallways of the estate quickly and quietly not wanting to get caught. Instead of going to the entrance of the estate he went to the back where the garden is. He can sneak out of there through the yard and exit the palace without getting noticed (hopefully). It was a perfect plan.

He came to the door that lead to the huge garden the maids took care of. He opened the door and he saw a dim light on the ground, meaning the sun was rising, quickly. He closed the door and started to speed walk, hoping that no one will notice. (Btw the garden is so huge that it ends near the capitol main roads. There's a dirt path showing the way to the main roads of the capitol.)

After a few minutes of speed walking he could see the exit to the garden. Just barely out of reach.  He started to sweat Immensely knowing that anyone could catch him sneaking off. But... Just... One... More... Step...

He sighed as he reached the exit and wiped the sweat off his face. He opened his eyes and saw the sun-lit dirt path that lead to the royal capital's main roads where all sorts of people would be but not at this hour. He walked towards the dirt path and began the walk to the capitol.

-In The Capitol-

Nozel walked out of his favorite coffee shop with a cup of coffee in his hands. He slowly sipped on it as he was walking down the streets. Not many people were out at this time of day. But the people that were, whispered and looked at him oddly.

"What's lord Nozel doing out this early? Could he be running errands for his squad?" A noble male whispered to his friend beside him.

"No. I'm guessing he's just out doing his normal thing. See the coffee in his hands? That's how I know." His friend whispered back.

Nozel closed his eyes a bit and sighed quietly. This was one of those many times that he wished he was a commoner so he can get by just a single day without someone whispering about him or looking at him with a cautious look everywhere he went. He didn't feel safe no matter where he went. And he always had to keep calm and keep a good reputation, as to just one tiny slip up could be his down fall. For good.

He took his last sip of his coffee and through the empty cup in the trash can on one of the streets. He just now noticed that not many shops are open. Many have gone out of business from lack of funding or lack of management. Some of them even have been removed for higher class family businesses. A sum of them are also being remodeled so they are closed momentarily. A few of the shops he shopped at were either closed, or remodeling.

As he was walking down a street going to his destination he saw something, someone... Familiar... He took a closer look and recognised that short black hair shining in the sun, and the smoothness that makes you want to run your fingers through it. Nozel's eyes widen with shock and his nose scrunches up in hatred. His teeth grit in pain from the memories of the past.

He notices that the man turns around and walks towards him. He's only 1 foot away from him. The man leans into his ear and says,

"Oh How Is My Little Vampire Doing?"

End.

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For: @mrnozzlesilversimp

After a long time I have finished the story inspired by you art :,) thank you.

Also @thespiralgrimoire

@shinyshammie

@vermillionflames

@thoughtfullyrainynightmare

I come baring gifts for you? I would also like your opinion on it as well. I need to improve more. Thank you. 🙏💖

[horansqueen]

I Almost Care : Part 2

PART 1

NOTES:

- I’ve always wanted to start a Louis story so here it is - The synopsis and the chapters are posted on my masterlist. - Yea it’s still my name in this. I know it bothers some ppl but that’s how i write. - Parts will be about 2k. Not sure yet how many parts I’ll write tho, probably depends if people read it not. - I do not proofread and i do not have a beta, sorry! - i decided to start a tagging list so if you want to be tagged in chapters OR be informed privately when it’s updated, let me know in my inbox, in a reblog, in tags, or anything. - There will be smut. and fluff. - The title is a Hanson song. The lyrics are posted in Part 1. - if you care about this story and read it and comment it and reblog it and like it, i love you and youre my new bff :D

I ALMOST CARE : PART 2

AMELY

I was supposed to say no and spend a nice and relaxed weekend in a lodge my parents has ranted for the summer. That was the plan. Then how did I end up agreeing to a wild weekend in Las Vegas? I was not even sure anymore. I guess the fact that my parents had invited the very same weekend our neighbors was probably for a lot, especially when I found out they were bringing their annoying and cocky son with them. There was no way I was going to spend days with him following me around and flirting with me with his annoying smirk and his shirtless obsession. The size of his ego was unbelievable and if I spent an other hour rolling my eyes at his disgusting pick-up lines, I would certainly puke.

I guess when Julie invited me, I jumped on the occasion of being as far as I could from Bradley and his cringe worthy personality. I hated gambling. In fact, I was pretty sure I wouldn't spend a single buck in a machine, but I was not against some fun, and if I wanted to be honest, I was ready to try new things. It was going to be my very first time in the states but gladly, I had a passport that I kept to go see family members, sometimes, in other european countries.

As usual, I packed whatever I could find and all this in only half an hour. I knew the flight would be long so I brought a book, earphones and a pillow with me. I also decided to wear sweatpants and a hoodie. I mean, there was no reason for me to be uncomfortable for 10 hours, right?

It's only when I rushed inside the airport, after being fifteen minutes late, that I realized my mistake. He was there. Louis was there and i looked like crap. Louis Tomlinson was a part of this trip and I was hideous. My clothes were old, my hair was a mess, and I was not wearing any make up, showing dark circles around my puffy and tired eyes. It's not like Louis had never seen me like that but when you see your ex after so long, you at least want them to regret not being with you anymore, even if just slightly. Clearly, no one could regret me with the look that I had at this exact moment.

My heart stopped exactly at the same time than my feet. My newest Vans made an annoying squeaky noise on the slick floor and we stared at each other. It was pathetic.

"Come on guys, hurry up!" I heard Julie say, clapping her hands.

"Hey Mely, late as usual." Liam pointed out with a chuckle. "Glad to see things don't change."

Normally, I would nudge him and tell him to shut up but I couldn't take my eyes off of Louis and I couldn't calm the beating of my heart. Truth was, I never wanted us to be over, but somehow, I felt like he was not ready to be with someone. Or maybe it was just me he didn't want to be with. Either way, we didn't work, even if, believe me, I did everything I could to be exactly what he wanted. The problem was, he didn't even know what he wanted. That thought made me raise my nose in a grimace and I saw him frown, probably thinking my reaction was because he was there.

I pulled my pillow closer to me and followed my friends to the gates. It was a good thing that (and I counted) there were nine of us. Perhaps I wouldn't have to spend too much time around him. Maybe he would even pretend I didn't exist and ignore me the way he did it so well not only after we broke up but also during the last few days we were dating.

It was very unlikely since I spent a lot of time with Julie and Liam and I was perfectly aware that Louis and Liam were very close, but I wouldn't mind trying to get closer to the other people with us, if I had to.

I didn't know how I ended up with a plane ticket in my hand but I decided to just follow everyone. I smiled when I realized I got a window seat and literally let myself fall on the bench that I thought would be more comfortable.

"A bit stiff? I know."

My breath caught in my throat and I held it in. My heart started racing, my cheeks were getting warm and most likely red, and I I could feel my hands getting sweaty. I had a curse. It was the Louis curse. I would become an idiot whenever he was close. It was that way before I started dating him and now, the curse was back. I turned to him, my eyes a bit too round than they should have been, and he sent me a polite smile.

"Not you, I mean the seat."

My lips curled into a rude smile. "Funny."

Louis was, in fact, a funny guy. He could always make me laugh, even when I had the ugliest day. He could always turn my frown upside down. He could always make me at ease, make me feel pretty, important, smart... Qualities I could not really see in myself, or at least, sometimes they seemed hard to see.

"I know, I'm a funny guy." he replied, as if he had read my thoughts.

This time, he sent me an amused smile and I surprised myself wondering if it was just an act. I knew Louis was just as uncomfortable around me as I was around him. There was a reason why we made sure we wouldn't bump into each other and being seated right next to him in this plane confirmed it was a good idea to stay away from each other. How long did I read that this flight would be again? I said 10 hours, didn't I?

"You don't have to pretend, you know." I just pointed out, grabbing my bag and searching through it without looking at him.

I didn't want to admit that watching him actually hurt me, and way more than I thought it would. I had put so much effort, time and love into our relationship but I was not even sure he noticed it. I was not even sure he ever really loved me. I didn't know why I stayed for so long. Perhaps it was simply because I had hope.

"What do you mean?"

It took me a few seconds but I finally moved my gaze up. Our eyes met and I inhaled deeply before breathing out.

"You don't have to pretend to be happy that we'll be stuck together for hours." i explained, slipping my hand in my backpack to find my phone. "I'm not pleased by this either."

I turned my phone on and started checking a few messages I had received but I could feel his gaze on me, burning my skin. He was so close I could smell his odor, a mix of his cologne and his natural scent. He smelled amazing and exactly how I remembered but I couldn't let that get to me.

"I take it they didn't tell you I was coming."

His words surprised me and without thinking, I looked up again. I stared at him for a few seconds and licked my lips,shaking my head from left to right.

"Yea, they didn't tell me you'd be there either."

Now that I was thinking about it, it angered me slightly. Why weren't we aware that we would have to spend a few days together? After all, our friends knew exactly what had happened between us and also knew that we were avoiding each other. I nodded and finally leaned against my seat, closing my eyes and hoping the discussion was over.

"It's true."

I frowned, waiting for him to continue but apparently, he was waiting for something and my curiosity won the fight. I opened my eyes and turned my head his way as it was still leaning on the back of the seat.

"I'm not pleased, but it's not because I don't want to see you, or because I hate you or anything." he admitted, glancing down quickly before looking back in my eyes. "It's because I know you hate me, and it's awkward between us. But trust me, I don't want to ruin your weekend. If you want me to stay away from you, then I will."

I blinked a few times, once again surprised by his words but also by his compassion. It reminded me of who I started dating, Louis was charming and kind, cheeky but soft, funny and sensitive. He was the whole package : the man you want to present to your folks but also the man to make you cum hard between the sheets. Looking at him from so close again brought back so many memories that I had to hold my breath for a few seconds as I felt my whole body throb.

After a while, I got back to my senses and cleared my throat, playing with my earphones.

"Alright." I said with a shrug, putting my earphones on and starting the music. "But I don't mind you being around me. It's your trip too."

I could swear I read sadness in his eyes and perhaps, I had gone a little too far. I was good at pretending I didn't care, he should know that, and the problem was that I cared. I cared so much. I cared too much.

"Oh and Louis?"

Once again, his head raised up and his eyebrows too. I couldn't help but let my lips curl a bit at how cute he looked.

"I don't hate you."

He sent me a small smile and made a quick head movement as a thank you. I hated that it started hurting again. It's like a wound you thought was pretty much painless and almost completely healed that would re-open suddenly and bleed like a bitch. I spent a few more seconds just staring at him as I made a list in my head of everything I missed about him before taking my phone in my hand. I got into my note application and started typing with only one fingers, cursing as I made typos every other word.

- the way he laughed at my clumsiness - the way he played with my hair - the mischievous smirk he sent when he was horny - the grimace he made when I had a good comeback - the way he rolled his eyes at the memes i'd show him - his warm hands traveling on my skin - the way his eyes roamed on me like I was the only person worth looking at - the way his lips moved on mine, slowly but avidly - how tight he held me against him at night even if his bed was king sized - the way he whispered 'i love you' when he thought I was asleep

I suddenly stopped typing and swallowed at as I re-read the last one twice, three times... ten... I felt my eyes water and cleared my throat, turning the screen off and letting my phone fall on my laps. Why was this happening to me? I was good without him, I didn't need him, and I was happy. Then why was I feeling like that? I felt my twist in my chest and he had been sitting next to me for about 10 minutes, how was I going to survive a long weekend around him without falling in love with him again?

That thought made my heart jump so hard in my chest that my whole body started throbbing again. I couldn't go through that again, I couldn't have my heart broken an other time. It was much more than I could handle. I wasn't even sure how I survived last time.

I leaned again my seat again and shut my eyes tight, trying to stop the tears from falling, but when I felt his fingers brushing against the top of my hand, my eyes opened wide and I turned to him.

"Hey, Mely, are you okay?"

No. Clearly, I was far from okay. I was nostalgic of the only relationship that ever mattered to me. I was falling again for the only guy I really loved, the only guy who really broke my heart, and I couldn't help but think that I didn't deserve this pain. I deserved better. With that thought, I quickly took my hand back and nodded.

"Yea, i'm fine, thanks."

[peachie-alpaca]

very long post about my experience with therapy and how it affected me, and moving forward from the negative experience

i’ve been going to therapy for almost two years now but i’ve decided to quit it. not quitting therapy in general, but quitting my (now ex) therapist.

because honestly? this therapist didnt have my best interest in mind and it took me a while to realize this.

this is hard for me to talk about but I need to write it out. I wanted to talk about it sooner but I waited until after I actually quit her to since it was so stressful for me to think about. i kept getting anxiety attacks and insecurity about my decision.

but anyway, I really liked this therapist. I really did. she really made me feel understood and I easily got attached to her. even when I would notice little red flags, I ignored them, I kept giving her the benefit of the doubt.

I didn’t quit her because she pushed me to go out of my comfort zone, I certainly did accomplish uncomfortable things and she acknowledged this. 

no, what made me quit her was getting to actually know her ideals that conflict with mine, her making me feel unheard. and, at worst, her hypocrisy. i’ll get to that later.

“wait, didn’t you just say she made you feel understood?” 

at first, yes. after all, she was my first therapist. practically anyone who would simply listen to my deepest fears and thoughts was great in my book, and I had been dreaming about going to a therapist for years. I knew I needed it.

so when I could finally get into an insurance plan that pays for therapy, I wore rose-tinted glasses towards her.

i didn’t care at first that she... hardly took notes.

at most, during some sessions, i would see her quickly scribble something down at the end. well....

whenever I brought up really important things about myself, she wouldn’t delve into them more or ask questions. she would listen, nod, and get the conversation back to the topic of “what goals do you want to accomplish?”

again, this didn’t bother me at the time, “yeah! sorry to bring up irrelevant things, haha!”

it’s one thing to make progress, it’s another to dismiss big things about myself that are very important to me. 

i sort of had a mini epiphany moment when meeting with my psychiatrist for the first time. he asked about my upbringing and i explained it was abusive, then he asked, “are you talking about this with your therapist?” 

i whispered “no”....

it’s not that I haven’t told her, i told her almost first session about my family life. but it didn’t lead to anything more than her saying “okay I see, so that was hard for you” then moving on.

i brought this up with her next session, but that didn’t go anywhere, either... said it’s “off topic for the goals we had”

i had also told her that i came from a religious pentecostal borderline culty home, and that i wanted nothing to do with it now and i’m 1000% atheist. i don’t believe in the god of the bible or any gods for that matter. and i made this very clear to her that it is a trauma of mine. this was a whole process i went through in the past years and came to a head in the beginning of 2019, when i finally accepted myself as bisexual and atheist.

so for her to say to me, when i was sad and anxious about my grandma’s declining health, “I know you said you aren’t a christian anymore, but you’re still a spiritual person and i want to know how that is helping you in coping with your grandmother possibly passing away?”

what?

i felt so shocked that she described me that way, i wanted to cry. “spiritual”? i am hardly the type, even when I was christian. this completely took me aback, and i corrected her shortly afterwards. she apologized and reworded herself but i just... i couldn’t get over it. 

had she not listened to me one bit? I even told her about how i joined a discord server last year specifically for ex-religious people to come together for support.

but i was insecure... i didn’t want to think i had a “bad therapist”

"i guess no therapist has super memory right? who cares if she got a few things wrong...."

i was never afraid to be open and honest when she hurt my feelings. i did feel safe enough to tell her my real thoughts, which i appreciate from her. on multiple occasions when i took things she said the wrong way, i would tell her.

 for example, when she said she was upset when i wasn’t honest with her about a choice (which i later told the truth anyway so...), or when i felt she didn’t take my menstrual pain serious, or when she made me feel like i was making excuses with my depression. 

those conflicts cleared up and i understood she didn’t mean harm, but they stayed at the back of my mind. there are a lot more instances like that where certain things she said lowkey made me skeptical of her, but i’m not trying to write a novel. I wrote them down in my phone notes tho, haha.

it wasn’t all negative, she did help me with skills of thinking outside the box. i could feel that my time with her, i had developed skills that help me not think so negative about the smallest things, relating to my social anxiety. she helped me on how to feel grounded and get some wider perspective of interactions outside myself.

this is why it took me so long to realize she wasn’t good for me, because she wasn’t the cliché obviously terrible therapist. she wasn’t blatantly awful. i question her practices but maybe someone else can benefit from it, idk.

what finally made me quit her for good and realize that she is actually doing more harm than good, was when she wanted to diagnose me with a personality disorder, despite her saying she cannot diagnose me with a personality disorder because i have depression.

when earlier in the year i said i was very concerned that i had a different personality disorder, she just insisted that while yes i have traits, no i didn’t have it, that i’m depressed so she cannot diagnose me with it.

(i’m not going to say which personality disorders since that’s a bit too personal for me to get into, so they’re just 1 and 2.)

i find this extremely unethical and hypocritical.

i questioned her on this and brought it up myself.

“you said you couldn’t diagnose me with 1, even though you yourself admitted i have traits of it, and i identify with it way more than 2, so why can you diagnose me with 2 and not 1? I thought you couldn’t diagnose personality disorders because i have depression?”

she nervously said, “yes, technically i cannot do that, but i strongly feel you have 2 instead of 1. I know this, I know you.”

i did not say anything, and just looked away from her. the air in that room was so unnerving and.... i can’t describe more how i felt.

after that session, to tell you the truth, i avoided her for weeks. i made excuses and told her i needed to reschedule a day or two before each session. i was procrastinating quitting her, also because I needed some paperwork from her before I quit.

but i finally did it, this week. i knew i couldn’t just disappear. besides me not wanting to be billed for missing appointments, i’m not the type that doesn’t give closure. it’s understandable if people do if their therapist did something extremely offensive or illegal, but for some reason i just felt it had to be done in a conclusive way. idk. maybe i didn’t need to do that.

it was short and uncomfortable, i cried. a part of me was a little girl, wanting things to be fixed and that “this is a bad ending! lets just make up and try again! we did that before, why can’t we now?” 

i hushed her in my mind, and said, as a mature adult, “this is for our own good. this has to be done.”

i didn’t get into my huge problem with her about the personality diagnosis, which i regret. I just wanted the session to end as quickly as possible. i mainly told her i felt extremely disrespected and that we just aren’t a good fit for each other. that’s what all the articles about therapy say, right? that you have to be a good fit with your therapist?

i felt so empty afterwards, and this experience honestly leaves me anxious for my next therapist. i feel scared to open up only for them to be something i thought they weren’t...

i want to find a good therapist, i’m just kind of doubtful of it... it was hard enough to find an english speaking therapist. as you might know, i live in germany. even though i’m learning german, i feel more comfortable speaking my native language, which makes sense right?

i’ll keep trying, i won’t lose hope...

[forthesakeofpride]

Kubo’s New Interview

>Out the gate I'm surprised to hear that Kubo is actually married, and he lives in Roppongi hills which is basically Beverly Hills Japan.

>(His voice is also not what I thought it'd be.)

>(The radio announcers are surprised that at 40 he's able to afford living there.)

>He actually walked to the studio to do this interview since he lives so close. And he's been living there for 10 years, (lol they're applauding for him.)

>His wife is a big fan of the show and wanted to come but couldn't make it, poor lady. (She's 37 by the way.)

>They're talking about Rukia's bangs and how cute looking they are. (Ngl, those are her best features.)>Kubo grew up in Hiroshima -- specifically Fuchu-cho.

>Kubo got his start in mangaka-ing when during his third year in high school he entered a contest after telling his teacher he wanted to be a mangaka. He didn't end up winning despite getting to the final round, but someone in Shueisha contacted him to be his editor.

>He comments this was before summer vacation of his third year in high school and the radio hosts are surprised he was contacted like that.

>He wanted to be a mangaka since elementary school but didn't actually draw much of anything till high school. lol, while you'd *think* he'd be apprehensive to take it since he was a student at the time, that wasn't the reason. It was more like Kubo has a very concrete vision of what he wants to do and therefore doesn't want people to boss him around.

>He has actually been considering going to school for design before going down the path of drawing manga.

>His folks neither encouraged him to do it or said not to, apparently. I've heard stories about how some parents of mangaka were vehemently against it, but his seemed pretty laid back. They apparently didn't even know he *wanted* to draw manga, lol.

>But yeah his favorites as a kid were Gegege Kitarou, and he discovered jump in elementary school where he enjoyed Saint Seiya.

>His first editor was pretty chill, and didn't ask him to change too much, and even when he did, if Kubo didn't want to change it he didn't.

>The interviewers comment that they heard a lot of stories about mangaka clashing with the editors but Kubo refutes this with his 1st. At the same time he doesn't remember much since there wasn't anything of note that happened at the time.

>He implies he became a mangaka because a lot of that work is done on one's own. He's the type of person who would rather work on his own, though he did enjoy working with his assistants. But he'd keep the time that they work together short.

>He also was one to eat on his own --up until he got married anyway. They ask if he was the type to eat out at chain food places or at home, and he answers at home, lol. Dude really likes his "me" time.

>Kubo debuted in a special issue of shounen jump, where the ranking preferred veteran artists over newbies. This was back in 1996. Veterans would take the top spots while they'd rank newbies after that. 

>Wow, so apparently this issue was the one where Oda debuted with Romance Dawn, in 3rd while Kubo was 4th with his oneshot.

>Not sure if he's joking or actually throwing shade, but after debuting below Oda, he says he started to dislike him, lol.

>After this, he was "lucky" (his words) to not have to work very hard for three years -- he just did oneshots during that time. Kubo was more or less forced to do oneshots although he really didn't want to -- and they brought folks in to help him with them.

>I guess as a sign of rebellion, he'd turn them in just baaaaaarelly before the deadlines, lol. So they'd call him down to Tokyo, put him in a room with assistants and essentially make sure in the week before release he'd finish. But because these assistants were typically older than him, he found it difficult to work with them. Combine that with his preference to work alone and it was a pretty unpleasant work environment. Often they'd not draw things to his preference and he'd go behind them to fix it later.

>And Torishima returns, crushin' them youngster's dreams. Essentially he told Kubo during his one-shot period that his manga is bad and gave him a copy of Dragon Ball and Fist of the North star, and told him to read it and draw a manga like this. (The way Kubo tells the story, it sounds like Torishima slammed the books on his desk and was like "Go home and don't come back till you read these").

>Anyway Kubo's thinking to himself "screw you!" and doesn't read the manga. Though to be fair they're both pretty big deals so there's no way Kubo wouldn't know of them even if he doesn't read them.

>So now we're getting to Bleach. His first series --Zombie powder ended in 2000 and Bleach began in 2001 so only a year off for Kubo. He regrets not having more time off between the two, but his editor at the time was like "You'll be forgotten if you're gone too long". The hosts comment that it's more normal to have a 3-5 years off between series, but for him it was a year. And that's because the editorial staff really wanted him to do something else and thus reserved a spot in the next special issue of jump. (The more I listen, the more it sounds like poor Kubo is the poster child of what people think of in regard to Jump business practices.)

>He didn't have anything in mind but since they had asked him to draw something, he remembered a notebook of characters he had that he was going to use for something else, and quickly put together a story for a oneshot which became the Bleach prototype. (So essentially Bleach was a happy accident of sorts.)

>Rukia was the first character he came up with, and it was because of her that he went in the direction of Shinigami. Although Kitarou was an inspiration, it was more Kubo's fear of death, hell and the afterlife that pushed him to pursue the path the story took.

>The zanpakuto are a package deal with the characters, so he didn't have a tough time designing individual ones. t wasn't like "design a character and THEN the zanpakuto" more like "design everything together.?

>And now the thing people probably wonder the most about Bleach -- yes the ending was something he thought of from the start. He had always wanted to end Bleach with a scenario where the new generation takes over for the old guard. And that the entire story was building links from the start to the eventual end. So he just sort of expanded things as necessary just in case the series ever got cancelled. He also confirms that sometimes he'd sort of let the series glide along on autopilot, but he does say you can serialize a manga like that without thinking at all.

>The interviewers bring up Otokojuku as a manga that's enjoyable in spite of all the inconsistencies. (I've never read it though.)

>Nakano and Kubo worked together -- Nakano was his second editor. While Nakano was harsh on Matsui, he was more..."arrogant" toward him, lol. (Kubo's words.)

>Lol, while Kubo was of course happy when Bleach's anime was announced, his other initial reaction was "Why did it take so long?"

>Generally speaking Jump manga get adaptions usually a year and a half or two years after they start. Bleach took three. (Hey at least you're not in Sunday where anime seem to never happen, buddy.)

>As for the anime, Kubo wasn't too thrilled with the changes they made to his script, to the point that it'd give him stomach aches. So he essentially demanded to be sent the scripts so he could correct them as his name is on the product and he wants it to reflect his work. He got really mad with some things, lol. (No specifics tho.)

>They're talking about Gegege Kitarou now... It sounds like Mizuki allowed certain things to fly in the anime version of the manga, even if they contradicted he original. The interviewer notes that even as a kid in kindergarten he noticed --something about one demon walking normally when they shouldn't..

>Back to bleach. It was running for 15 years but Kubo never felt pressured or anything as he had more or decided on how things would go. He'd be planning for the next week while writing the current week's chapter, so that's how he kept things moving. Kubo is one who is very precise with how he spends his time, so he would have a strict schedule, one he kept until his health declined. He's the type of person who would do their summer homework at the start of vacation to get it out of the way.

>He had about 7-8 editors during Bleach's 15 year run, though he's not sure of the number since they'd come and go frequently. Generally speaking, he got along well with everyone, but he'd get on their case if there was a mistake or misprint in the volumes. Still he'd say he got along pretty well with them.

>When Bleach ended, his initial reaction was basically. "I'm so tired." >He decided (not the editorial staff) that he'd draw Bleach to his desired conclusion, so even though there were times where he'd want to end the series prematurely due to his declining health, he kept going in order to reach the end he was satisfied with.

>It's not as if Jump chained him to a desk, he just wasn't one who had an interest in vacations or things like that. If he had somewhere to go --like to be a guest somewhere he'd take the time off and go and that would be that.

>And now some listener letters. This question is essentially something like "do you cry at impactful scenes or get happy at ones that come out well when you draw?" His answer is no, though he would get goosebumps when a scene he draws comes out better than he expected. He feels like every mangaka gets this --though it's something one can only understand if they draw themselves. You have to go into a scene thinking "This is awesome" or else the readers won't understand what one is trying to convey.

>There's apparently a "deep darkness" they haven't been able to touch in Kubo, that they will next week. (Before the conspiracy theories start, I'm almost positive they're joking.)

>Also, no, he's not working on anything right now and doesn't seem to have anything in the works.

>And that's it. I'll see if I can hit up part two since people really liked this (as indicated from my exploding notifs.) Though I admittedly am not the biggest Bleach fan. Still I like making people happy so I'll do my best.

Source: Bleach Asylum...credit to Sandleaf

[payspersonal]

Falling For The Bully//Min Yoongi

➤ Pairing - Min Yoongi x Reader

➤ Summary - At high-school, everyone has their own place. You were the typical nerd of high-school, Yoongi being your number one bully. What happens when Yoongi starts needing you in his life?

➤ Word Count - 1,689

➤ Genre - Fluff with a dash of angst (Cause im high-key angst trash)

➤ Warning(s)/Heads-up - None

➤ Author’s Note - Thank you for requesting this babe, who ever sent this. *low-key eyeing @britnojams ) I hope this fulfills your request, even tho it’s short and might suck. I’m so sorry I took so long to write this! 

➤ Prompt Request(s) - 6~ “Don’t be so quick to say no. Give it some thought, would you?” 9~ “Stop being grumpy. It’s lame” 12~ “Maybe... I need you”

Yoongi followed his friends, two of them being behind, two being in front, and two on both sides of him, making him in the center of the group. This was his life and has been his life for the past three years of his high school life, and he regretted his decision for the past for the past three years, even when there were twisted benefits to it. The only thing he didn’t hate it was his friends.

Yes, they weren’t viewed as the nicest guys on the high-school campus, but they were fun to be around. 

Seokjin, the oldest out of the group, always made sure the boys were taken care of when they hung out since he knew how to cook. Hoseok and Taehyung would always make jokes. Namjoon would help anyone with their homework if they couldn’t solve a problem. Jimin and Jungkook were fun to be around, and he also liked picking on them sometimes too, not that he’d admit it.

What he did hate was the stares, whispering, and looks people gave him and his friends, when they had no reason. 

None of them smoked or had done drugs. Yes, occasionally they had one-night stands, but that was occasionally, they were still boys who had hormones like any other human. Of course, like most teenagers, they went to parties and drank, but they never got into fights unless they were provoked by idiots who tested their anger levels, then fists were thrown and blood was shed by the guy who provoked them.

People had judged them because of their dress styles, not their personalities and attitudes like they should have.

This is why they were labeled the bullies of the high-school.

He watched as the groups people of people in the crowded hallway moved to either side, not wanting to get run over by the group. 

He separated himself out of the group of males, having the urge to speak to someone who’s back he recognized easily in the hallway with identical school uniforms as everyone else.

He stood straight behind the person, wanting and waiting for them to recognize his presence, but by the way they kept organizing their locker, he started to get annoyed.

Clearing his throat, he watched as the person jumped lightly, being spooked by the sudden noise he had caused.

You were organizing your locker, your books and papers being strolled out before from the previous two weeks since it was almost mid-terms and you wanted to study and get as many as notes as you could, and threw everything in your locker.

Hearing someone clear their throat, you jumped, then turned around to see which friend decided to scare you, but was met with your school bully, Min Yoongi.

Yoongi had his eyes set on bullying you since the first day of high-school of your second year, and that was two years ago since you were both now in your senior years.

“What do you want, Min Yoongi?”, you blatantly questioned the man before you, looking up at his tall frame.

He dismissed your questioning as he grabbed ahold of your wrist, pulling you along with him as he made his way through the silent halls, your fellow students staring at you, or more at where Yoongi was gripping onto your wrist. 

“Let me go, Min Yoongi!”,you tried to pull your wrist away from him, but he kept a tight hold on it, but not tight enough to where it would hurt you. You stared at him wide-eyed as he continued to haul you along, still not speaking of where he was taking you.

You watched the back of his head, wondering where in the world he was taking you.

You had to get to class soon and you were not going to be late just because of Min Yoongi being a stubborn male and not getting your consent to basically kidnap you.

"Why can't you at least tell me where you are pulling me off too? I've got a class to get to. I don't intend on skipping it either.", you mumbled, trying to wiggle your wrist out of his grip, but the attempt was weak.

"Can you stop complaining? You're starting to get annoying," Yoongi grumbled, wanting you to shut your mouth immediately, but you were not going to comply. 

"You're the one who decided to pull me along to some mysterious place. You can't blame me," you mumbled once more. Yoongi was starting to annoy you. Why was he being so stubborn?

Yoongi rolled his eyes, he was starting to get nervous, but nothing was shown on his face but the fake annoyance. He actually wished you would have talked more.

He loved your voices. He thought it sounded so melodic when you talked. Your laugh was amazing. Your giggle was even better. Everything about you seemed so amazing to him. It was like he was being pulled to you like some invisible and undeniable magnetic force.

He loved the way your long hair fell in front of your eyes when you talked to your friends. He loved the way you would your mind would float into its own world, your distant look in your beautiful eyes, your head positioned to look out the window next to your seat.

He was so fascinated by everything you do, and he was liking it. 

How were you the person who made him feel uncontrollable butterflies in his stomach? He had no idea what to do when you would make eye contact with him during classes, he would just start blushing, his pale, milky skin would go bright pink and SeokJin was the only person who knew about his secret infatuation with you, and always found ways to tease him about you too.

He resented the feelings he felt when he saw you, but also surrounded himself by them, only letting himself feel the pure happiness in secret when he thought of you or what you were probably doing.

Not but a few minutes later, you saw him approach the nearby park. 

It looked so peaceful. In the direct middle of the park was a blooming cherry tree, benches surrounding it and close by was a playground that had a few laughing little kids crawling around in, playing on the swings and sliding down the small slides into their parents' arms.

You smiled, watching the kids play, forgetting Yoongi was close to you. 

"I brought you here, so pay attention to me," Yoongi spoke up, grumbling, but watched the way as you unconsciously smiled while watching the playing children, which he thought was so adorable.

"Stop being grumpy, it's lame," you looked at him, rolling your eyes as his attitude.

"Stop paying attention to the children," he fired back, crossing his arms and started to pout involuntarily, making you start to giggle before covering your mouth with your hand.

He continued to pout until he grabbed your arm and pulled you down onto the bench that was close by to where you were recently standing.

"Why did you bring me here, Yoongi?", you asked, looking at him as he looked at the cherry tree, his elbows on his knees, his chin propped in his hand as he turned his head slightly to look at you.

He watched you as you moved your hair from the right side of your face to the left, it cascading over your shoulder, some of it covering your face.

"I didn't want anyone to interrupt us," he simply explained, shrugging.

"Interrupt us from doing what?", you asked, confused.

"I didn't want anyone to interrupt us while I asked if you wanted to go on  a date."

His blunt words immediately stunned you. WHy would Min Yoongi want to ask you out on a date? The only feelings he showed towards you were disinterest. He never showed you kindness or caring. He only told you his blunt opinions about everything you did, and most of them were not the nicest.

"Why?"

"Why?", he moved, now fully looking at you, one of his arms propped on the back of the bench, his body turned towards you as he looked you in the eyes with all seriousness, "because I like you."

You burst out laughing, you laughed so much it hurt your stomach, tears forming at the bottom of your eyes. 

"You, like me?", he nodded, an eyebrow lifted at your actions. 

"What's so funny about me liking you?"

"Well, you've only picked and teased me for the last three years of my life. You've never shown me kindness or caring feelings. What nice feelings am I supposed to conclude from that?"

Yoongi looked at you, guilt and regret in his eyes. You watched as his mouth opened then shut again, moving to look ahead of him again.

You immediately sad when you saw the distraught look on his features. Your instincts told you to wrap your arms around him and tell him everything was going to be okay, that you forgave him for everything he had done, but you didn't. 

He didn't know how much he actually hurt you sometimes. 

"I'm sorry. I never knew I made you feel like that, I never meant to. I'm being honest when I say I really like you. Can I make it up to you with a date?", he looked at you, hope and desperation obviously shown in his eyes. 

You hesitated,"I can't."

He frowned, looking back at the cherry tree,"Don't be so quick to say no. Give it some thought, would you? I want to make everything up that I made you feel or do. You don't and never did, deserve the hurt I caused you. I was being an asshole unintentionally, but I need to make this up to you."

You pressed your lips tightly together, glancing over to Yoongi, who was facing you, his hands clasped together, quietly begging you to say yes.

You sighed, pushing some of your hair back,"Alright, but I don't see why you need to do this. I'm no special person."

"Well, that's what you think, but maybe... I need you..."

[use-a-little-patience]

Sirius Black Imagine: Bedtime Stories

“Which one do you want to hear?” you asked as you took The Tales of Beedle the Bard from the shelf.

Your six year old daughter looked at you and sighed. You knew she was tired from listening the same stories over and over again. Her favourite was The Tale Of Three Brothers, of course, she loved scary stories which reminded you of her father.

As you sat next to her on bed she looked down at her hands.

“I want a new story.”

You chuckled. Making up new stories wasn’t one of your talents and you knew Sirius could do much better at that, he was a born storyteller.

You thought for a moment. Nothing came to your mind. As a child you were never told stories from your mother - you came from an old, pureblood and wealthy family which taught you a lot - especially what kind of family you don’t want your daughter to have. As a little girl, you used to sleep in a dark room in a cold bed that felt so unfamiliar. You used to believe there was something wrong with you because you didn’t hate muggle borns as your family did.

“Mom?” your daughter woke you from your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“I want to hear about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You and dad. How you met him.”

That brought a smile on your face. You felt like a little girl again. Bringing back the memories of how you fell for Hogwarts’ heartbreaker. And how he fell for you. Memories of your best friends Remus, Lily and James and the one you considered as your close friend, but failed - Peter. In seven years while you attended Hogwarts, your whole life changed.

You worked for the Ministry now, being an important official there, you rarely visited Hogwarts, unless your daughter and two older sons did a mischief or something like it.

“That’s a long story love..” you said to her and in an instant you knew that’s just going to fire her curiosity up.

“But mom! You never told me how you met him!”

You tried to calm her down by pushing her down to bed again and cover her up with a blanket.

“Darling look, maybe some other time.”

Your daughter crossed her arms and started pouting.

“Oh don’t give me that look. You are so like your father.” you chuckled.

She didn’t reply, but you knew she wouldn’t go to sleep, even if you promised her you will take her to Honeydukes tomorrow.

“Fine.” you finally gave up. Her face lightened up and she excitedly jumped under her blanket, preparing for a story.

You lied next to her and began.

You and Sirius have known each other since you were infants. His mother was your mother’s best friend and your fathers worked together. You lived with your parents, older sister and younger brother a few blocks away from 12 Grimmauld Place. So you knew him through your family and you two used to play together in the snow and in a nearby park watching muggles living lives much different from yours.

When you entered Hogwarts everything changed. He met James, Remus and Peter and you found yours - Elaine and Debbie, both purebloods. You were both Gryffindors, but he was an outcast and couldn’t stand his family, while you were afraid of losing your own. He became school’s heartthrob, while you were achieving top grades in all subjects. Sometimes you would caught him glacing at you in class and when you did he just smiled and looked away. You two still talked on many occasions, at Quidditch matches, at breakfast and when he copied his homework from you. You cared for him, as a friend back then. It didn’t bother you that he fooled around with girls, you considered him as your very good friend.

You befriended Lily in your third year and as years went on you, two grew closer. She was a muggle born and when your sister found out, she told your parents who almost disowned you from your family. They told you, you were a disgrace to the whole family and that you must stop this insane thing right now.

In that moment you felt your braveness that put you in Gryffindor. In your bones there was no longer fear of losing your family, but losing yourself. So you stood behind your words and actions and you sent your family to hell.

It was your sixth year and you no longer had patience for people like them. You didn’t just tolerate those who thought muggleborns were their inferiors, but you couldn’t stand no one who was much to proud and mighty and that meant James Potter and his best friend Sirius.

When you saw them bullying Severus who happened to be your friend because of Lily, you hexed them both. Yes that sent all three of you to detention, but you didn’t care. You were fearless and brave.

Sirius was amazed by the fire inside of you. You were once a girl afraid of a world she lived in and now you took control over it.

He always payed attention to you. He always thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. He always cared for you. But when you finally shined in your true light, that’s when he fell in love with you.

James started teasing him about you, but he just shrugged him off as he headed to your dorm. Yes, of course it was forbidden, but did Sirius care? Absolutely not.

He opened the doors of your dorm to find you on your bed with your books and snake (yes, others may had owls, but you were something special) around your hand.

You jumped on your feet, totally surprised while Lily from the other bed just looked at him in awe.

Sirius was speechless. He just stared at you for a moment, before he turned his gaze to Lily.

“Would you mind leaving us for a moment?” he asked her.

Before Lily could argue how dares he come here and that she can’t stand him nor that Potter, you gave her an apologetic look and he left.

Sirius stepped closer to you and finally poured his feelings out to you. As he finished and confessed his love he had for you, you just stood there, not knowing what to say.

“Well?” he asked after some time.

You sighed and took a few steps back.

“Sirius…I have no idea how to say this to you, but I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Sirius was rejected for the first time in his life, beside his family. There was no girl in this school that would ever say no to him, but you did. Out of all people. It had to be you.

He was angry, mad even, at you, but you just said you don’t believe he’s capable of true love for one person. You doubted his feelings and hurt him a lot.

For the next few months he ignored you completely. He loosened up and gave himself to drinks, girls and reckless life.

You however regretted your decision a few weeks later, when you realized that he was truly in love with you. That he cared for you as you cared for him. But it was too late.

In your seventh year, your three years younger brother broke his arm while playing Quidditch. And it was Sirius who brought him to the hospital wing, staying with him until you came.

While you were walking down the white hall full of beds, you noticed a tall, handsome figure standing next to bed at the end of the hall. He was smiling at the patient and you soon realized it was Sirius smiling at your brother.

Yes you cared for your brother, but you were so nervous around Sirius. You were so embarrassed. you could hardly look at him. Your brother was cover in bandages, but happy to see his sister.

“Hi.” You said to Sirius firstly. He said hi back, but then gave you space to talk to your brother.

“(Y/N), you are an absolute idiot.” your brother said to you.

“Excuse me? I have much higher gra-”

“Shut up. You know what I’m talking about. Sirius is completely in love with you and you don’t do anything about it? I know you’re in love with him too. I didn’t forget how you used to talk about him all the time and then when he was disowned you defended him. What on earth is going on with you?”

You looked at Sirius, who was looking out of window, there was something missing..a spark of life that lightened up the room when he entered it.

“Listen, I told him about your crush on him you had on him since you were little-”

“You what?!” you whispered shouted at your brother. Now you were red in the face as a tomato.

“You stupid bimbo!” You smacked your brother’s head, before you quickly left the room.

You heard someone shout your name and suddenly you were spinned around by your wrist and your eyes landed on Sirius.

“Stop running away from me.” He said hurtfully. His eyes were sad, like he had lost everything he has ever loved.

You put your hands on his chest as a sign of giving up and he put his on your cheeks.

Before you could say anything, he kissed you, softly yet full of lust, like he was longing for that kiss since forever.

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” you thought, as he kissed you again and again and again.

“And then?” your daughter asked you, with no sign of tiredness in her voice.

“And then…we got married moved in here to take care after your grandmother Walburga, who was crushed after your uncle Regulus’ death. And then your two brothers came and then you and here we are..And soon you’ll go to Hogwarts like your brothers and Harry and Ron.”

She hid her face under a blanket. “I don’t want to.” she said.

You uncovered her to see her sweet angelic face. “Why not?”

“I want to stay here with you.” she said quietly.

You kissed her forehead and tucked her to sleep. After you turned off the lights and left her room, there was a warm feeling that flew over you. There is a whole life ahead of her, you thought. And you and your husband and friends around you are getting older, even tho you are in your thirties and you are still young, there are now people in your life that are far more important than anything in your life. And you must protect them.

You walked up the stairs of your house, to your bedroom. You were already in your sleeping dress, so you just slipped in your bed, under the sheets. You sighed quietly and drifted back to sleep, but before you could do that, two strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to the body next you, that belonged to your husband.

“Where have you been for so long?” he said in his low and sleepy voice.

“I was telling our daughter a story.” you replied while you caressed his hand on yours.

Sirius chuckled. “What story? From The Tales of Beedle the Bard?”

“No, she’s tired of them. She wanted to hear about how we've met each other.”

Sirius chuckled again and pulled his body up, so he was supporting it on one arm, while looking down at you.

“That is an interesting story. I hope you didn’t tell her everything.”

You chuckled and punched his arm slightly. “No, of course I did not.”

Sirius laughed, before he looked into your eyes, his face now completely still. He pushed stray of your hair from your face and gently kissed the corner of your lips.

“Remind me again of how you rejected me..” he whispered quietly as he kissed your jaw, neck and collarbone.

“..you know I was wrong back then. I was young and you had a certain reputation.” you said back softly. His touch still gave you shivers after all this time.

“What can I say, every girl wanted to have a piece of this.” he said while he pointed at his chest, covered with tattoos.

You both shared a laugh, before you spoke;

“I love you Sirius. I always have.”

He smiled and nodded. “I know, love, I know. I love you too.” he said and kissed you once more.

And then you two drifted back to sleep, embraced in a bed you shared, in a room full of memories, in a house you called home.

I Please give me feedback and send me some new requests.

[shadowyin-yang]

pre-school/kindergarten AU? idk

Send Me Prompts! 

Every time I thought I finished this I end up adding something new to it. = ~= Also, it took me so long to realize Fenders wasn’t even attached to this prompt. 

Verse: Modern-AU with magic (tho surprisingly I don’t think any magic was used in this)

Misc info: Pre-Fenders / implied some depression / OC Kid / long-term pining / (past) unhealthy expression of said-pining / I know with how our culture is it sounds like I’m trying to shoehorn a moral in. No, there is no moral. / I had this whole idea for “the other side” of the story from Fen’s POV. but that’ll only double the length of this. 

It was ruined. Mother said to not bring it to school in case it got dirty. And now it laid there on the ground, covered in mud, and missing an arm. Poor Mr. Meow. The plush was kicked around and stepped on and Anders couldn’t do anything to stop it. The boy did the only thing he knew how to do and started crying. 

He knew he had to be in trouble. This was all his fault. What if he couldn’t hold Mr. Meow anymore when he goes to sleep? He never should’ve brought his best friend to school. It was too late now. 

Surprisingly, his mother wasn’t as angry as he thought she’d be. She promised “we’ll get you a new one” but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t going be Mr. Meow. 

Anders couldn’t help but think about Mr. Meow for the rest of the week. Going to bed at night was scary, but his parents wouldn’t let him sleep in their bed anymore. He got apologies from the boys who hurt Mr. Meow but Anders knew they didn’t mean it. Everyone knew that adults just make you do it. It was difficult going through the school without Mr. Meow. He didn’t seem to have an appetite. Eating lunch wasn’t supposed to be difficult was it? Anders at least tried. He was told that trying was all that mattered. 

Anders slammed his hand around until it eventually hit his target and the annoying blaring sound stopped. He groaned to himself before forcing himself to sit up. After rubbing his eyes he immediately smiled upon seeing Pounce curled up beside him. He gave his cat a light pat he started shifting to get himself out of bed. Anders immediately stepped onto a pizza box. Oh Maker, this apartment needed to be cleaned. It took one glance at the clock before Anders decided he’d have to pick up clothes and put away books another time. 

Anders made sure to keep himself on a schedule. Well, as close as he could get to one after being woken up at 2:30 in the afternoon. Maybe he should take up on Hawke’s advice on sleeping like a ‘normal’ person……nah. 

By 3:28 pm, Anders expertly parked his bike beside the medal fence, not bothering to lock it up (as no one would steal this squeaky piece of junk). He rushed into the building and pulled an apron off the hook by the entrance. By 3:30, his bag was shoved into a cubby hole, his apron on, and he stepped into the colorful playroom.

“Anders!” Merrill exclaimed from her seat with a book in her hands. The children all circled around her on the storytime mat. The children mimicked her hand waving and enthusiasm upon seeing him. 

Anders waved back. “Hi everyone! Don’t mind me. Go back to the nice story!” After the initial hellos passed, everyone’s attention went back to Merrill. And so Anders started picking up some of the toys. Trucks, dolls, fake food and utensils, books, and he shoved anything smaller into his apron’s pockets. He took his time, but had become rather efficient at collecting items and moving them all back to the correct containers on a timely manner. Unfortunately, the work didn't stop him from yawning occasionally. Maker, maybe he should’ve stopped for some coffee on the way over. 

3:45 and the day was over (for the kids anyway). 

Parents and caretakers started coming in to pick up their children. Anders stayed by the large window as he put away the big building blocks into their (bigger) toy chest. The view let him see the people coming in and out of the building. He wished he didn’t have to do this, but he must, or risk a confrontation that he rather not have. 

The Maker decided to be funny at that moment and that’s when it when it happened: He saw him. Hair was white as snow, markings that traveled all over the body, a handsome face, and perfect voice…oh how Anders hated how attractive he was to look at while simultaneously hating this man! The number of times this jerk of an elf made his days in school a living hell was a reason added to his regret for coming back to Kirkwal! Maybe he should return to school and get a Masters or something…

Still, if Anders was good at anything, it was avoiding this specific elf. Hawke still tried to get the pair to be in the same room as each other ever since Anders returned, but Anders has expertly avoided such a situation for months. He refused to cave no matter how much Hawke tried to paint the elf in a better light: “Just let him apologize to you, Anders,” “He really wants to get off on the right foot with you,” “Can you be willing to have an online conversation instead then?”, “Please give him a chance, Anders,” “Oh Makers breath Anders, you can’t avoid him forever!”

Maybe Hawke was right, mostly in the department of his ability to not avoid another person forever (especially if they’re in the same circle of friends). It already almost happened a few times ever since he got this job. 

“Uh, Merrill, can you be here for another 10 more minutes?!” he swiftly rushed up to the elven woman as she was starting to leave the room. 

“Oh, well, I don’t know if I can really-”

“Merrill, please! I’ll owe you! I swear!” he put his hands together and pleaded. 

Merrill, unexpectedly, looked down in thought. Anders mentally cursed. He sensed an answer he didn’t want to hear coming…

“Oh, I suppose another 10 minutes shouldn’t-”

“N-No! It’s fine,” Anders cut her off and waved his hands in front of him. “I can handle this. I’m a grown up! You go do your thing.” She always covered for him whenever he asked in the past. Letting her go on time for once in her life was the least he should be doing to make up for all those past 10 minutes she helped him with. 

With that response, Merrill beamed up at him. “Thank you, Anders!” she turned to skip away. At the door, she let out an audible. “Hello, Fenris!” 

Anders froze and turned to look around the room. Was there anything new to clean up? Wait, there was no need to panic! He’s in a room with children! Surely even Fenris won’t make an ass of himself in front of children and passing adults would he? Okay, sure, Hawke has mentioned a lot how Fenris is not as tensed up or as snappy as he used to be about mages. But still! Hawke wasn’t the one that was picked on! 

“Anders?” Fenris questioned upon walking in through the door. 

Anders turned around, trying to pretend he definitely did not know the other was coming. “…Fenris.” he tried replying as casually as possible and leaned on the craft counter. Said-counter being the only thing between himself and Fenris. Luckily, Fenris didn’t make an attempt to go around it. 

Fenris still raised a brow though. He looked away briefly towards the remaining children. “Hati!” he called out. A young elven boy with strawberry blond hair perked up from his puzzle. He got up to start collecting his belongings. Fenris returned his attention to Anders. “It must be my lucky day. I have always missed you whenever I come here.”

“Yeah, that’s some bad luck,” Anders replied as he folded his arms. “You know. Sometimes I’m late. Lucky me that Merrill doesn’t fire me but I try?” 

With a backpack on, Hati only stared at Anders in confusion as he approached. “What? But I see you go into the toy closet sometimes when I leave.” Hati reminded as took Fenris’s hand. 

“Oh? Mr. Anders likes to hide in closets?” Fenris questioned. Anders caught a light smirk when the question was asked. 

“N-Not at all! I was just looking for things! Toys are everywhere you know?” Anders tried to wave off, hoping Fenris doesn’t bring up the inconsistency. 

Fenris only blinked and continued staring with a straight face. Okay, so maybe he totally knows that Anders was avoiding him. “I suppose that is possible.” Fenris stated. Yeah. He, he totally knows. “Well Anders, I shall not keep you from your duties any longer. But now that I finally caught you during a shift…” Fenris dug around in his satchel briefly before pulling out a red apple and holding it out for Anders. “For Hati’s caretaker.” 

Anders took the apple and looked at it curiously. “…Merrill?”

Fenris’s face scrunched up. “You!”

Oh. Anders wanted to ask why. He wasn’t even a teacher. He doesn’t handle the children for long periods of time (he was pretty sure he wasn’t even legally allowed to be by himself). Sure, maybe not everyone knew he wasn’t a teacher, but still. Why does he get an apple and not Merrill? While questioning it, Anders continued to inspect the item, wondering if Fenris somehow got a worm in there. 

“…you do not remember.” Fenris stated quietly. Anders looked back at the other. He could’ve sworn Fenris sounded genuinely hurt by that.  

“What am I supposed to remember?” 

Fenris shook his head and offered a soft smile. “It is nothing. It…does not matter now.”

“What? Come on, you can’t just imply it means something and then not tell me.” Anders started to toss the apple up and down. It felt real at least. And it did look fresh. 

“I could…or…” 

Anders stopped his tossing and looked back at Fenris in worry. Oh no, can the apple explode or something? 

“I could tell you next time I see you.” 

Anders pouted. “Oh now you’re just up to something.” Well that’s disappointing. Though Fenris surprisingly didn’t sound very malicious about it for once. 

“Yes. I am up to something,” Fenris replied dryly, “That something being I wish to see you next time. I, however, will have see whether or not you cease hiding in the toy closet.” 

Anders wasn’t sure how to wiggle himself out of that. He could not tell if Fenris was giving a smile or a smirk though. But he didn’t stare long enough to tell. 

“Come, Hati. I have taken up enough of Mr. Anders’s time.”

“Bye Mr. Anders,” Hati waved as Fenris gently led him out. Anders waved back with a smile. He immediately dropped his hand when Fenris looked back towards him. 

When Hawke first informed Anders about Fenris wanting to see him again, Anders thought the whole thing would’ve been romantic (after all, who wouldn’t want to hear the hottest person in all of Kirkwall wanted to see you?) if their history throughout school wasn’t so damn awful. He didn’t expect Hawke to be persistent about it though. Usually, Hawke just let things be as they are. 

Avoiding Fenris did have its downside though. It often left Anders to be a bit lonely as he would end up staying home alone with his video games and books. Well that’s not too bad. Though Anders reasoned it was better than facing Fenris.  

Anders almost wanted to ask Hawke what was up with the apple he was given, but decided against it. He, begrudgingly, tried to dig up any memories in school that involved an apple. Did Fenris throw one at him once or something? A ball, mud, another ball, a stick…nope! No apples came to mind. Oh well. 

After finishing up at the Day Care, Anders took a bite of the apple before getting on his bike. Tasted normal enough. Tasted really good actually. With a shrug, Anders went on to his next job, apple forgotten. 

“Here Mr. Anders,” the young elf, Hati, went up to him the moment Anders walked in the next day. The boy held up a red apple. “It’s from Daddy.” 

Anders froze in midst tying of his apron and stared. It wasn’t his business but he didn’t recall being told from anyone that Fenris was with child. Were they related or was Fenris just a father figure? He shook his head of those thoughts and knelt down to accept the gift. 

“Well, that’s, um…very nice of him. Did he tell you why?” 

“Oh, Daddy says-” Hati’s hands went up to his mouth in surprise, “I can’t! It’s a secret!” with that, Hati giggled to himself. 

“Oh, is it a good secret?” 

Hati nodded excitedly. “Daddy likes you! He says you are smart and you will find out all by yourself!” Anders wasn’t so sure about that. Were they both talking about Fenris here? 

Anders let Hati return to storytime and he pocketed the apple in the apron. 

Fenris arrived by 3:50. Anders didn’t even have time to go over to the window to watch for him. Ugh, maybe he should just get this whole thing over with; just hear what the elf had to say and just go back to your life. Simple as that.

Anders still rushed over to the craft counter though, still much preferred having something big and long between himself and the elf. For safety reasons. They still had social media, so Anders wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t know Fenris doesn’t go working out with Hawke every week (while Anders sits at home with boxes of pizza). 

“Hello Anders.” Fenris greeted with a small nod his way. 

“…Hi,” Anders replied, once again, leaning against the counter and awkwardly trying to find something on it to occupy his hands. He settled on trying to make something out of construction paper. 

“Hati!” Fenris called out for the boy before turning his attention back to Anders. “You look more tired today.” Fenris noted out loud. 

“Oh, you know. It was just…a rough night.” Yeah, anxious thoughts of why he was given an apple. Now he was going to go to bed wondering why he got another one from Hati, who apparently refers to Fenris as ‘Daddy’ and Anders was not sure what that entailed. “It’s fine! I can just…pick up coffee after work.” 

“That is unfortunate.”

“Oh yeah, very…” Anders ended up with a paper airplane in his hands. Oh Maker, just end this moment before they get an awkward silence. 

“Did you by chance remembered anything…about the apple…?”

Anders looked over to Fenris, who surprisingly was looking away from him, almost like he was…embarrassed? Shy? Anders wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint it. He doesn’t often see Fenris in either embarrassed or shy to know for sure. He saw Hati come up to them and took Fenris’s hand again. 

“Um…no. I…haven’t. I’m sorry.” 

Fenris sighed. “It is alright…” Before Anders could say any more, perhaps suggest that he should just be told, but Fenris finally lifted his head again. It was a strange moment for him…Anders wondered if he ever really looked back into the other’s eyes. “Anders. I know we…have not had the greatest relationship…in the past.” 

Anders had to resist scoffing. 

“I have no excuse, and I know it might be…years too late. Regardless…” Anders blinked back a look of surprise when he watched Fenris’s hand tighten around Hati’s. “So…I apologize for everything. You do not need to forgive me. But…it would mean a lot to me if we could…talk again.” 

Anders found he could only stare dumbfounded. There was so much he could dismiss, so many questions he could ask only for nothing to come out. As if understanding exactly what he needed right now, Fenris and Hati said a swift goodbye and promptly left. 

Anders went about the rest of the day in thought. Unsure if it mattered that Fenris apologized, or if it mattered if they could be on talking terms…well, of course it mattered. If it didn’t, the apology wouldn’t have thrown his entire world upside-down. 

Maker, when was the last time they even spoke (minus yesterday)? Anders hated that actually remembered: It was the summer after graduation, on Facebook of all places. They had a fight: Mage this, mage that; Tranquil this and that. Anders never went back online after that. At least, not until he was safely away from Kirkwall. 

He went to Ferelden for furthering his education, and in less than a week away from home, he suddenly had reasons to go back online. There were parties to plan with Sigrun, homework to discuss with Nate, and relationship talks with Hawke’s own cousin. Anders still stayed in touch with his Kirkwall friends - most of them any way. He and Fenris never spoke. Though Anders also never removed the other from his friends list. No, he just hid the other from the feed. He wondered if Fenris did the same. But the way Fenris looked at him the last couple of days only made Anders wondered if Fenris saw something different in him. Did he see everything Anders posted about on his social media? The relationship status changes, the rallies he had gone to, the photos he took, photos taken of him, him getting Ser Pounce, the rants, and all the times he’d post something and then delete it later. How much of all that has Fenris seen? 

No, this was ridiculous. This was all just anxious thinking. Anders knew he didn’t have the most exciting life. Unless you found the fight for mage rights or relationship statuses changing being a form of entertainment. Maybe it was simply that Fenris changed. 

But none of this explained the apples. 

This led to Anders sitting at home, on his laptop, at 3 am in the morning. He stared at Facebook and wondered if he should start stalking Fenris’s page. 

No. That’s wrong. This is none of his business. 

Despite telling himself that for the past 10 minutes, Anders still hasn’t budged from the site. 

“Just the last few days” he reasoned. Okay, just a little bit then. 

Fenris’s profile photo was really cute. Dammit. Hati’s smiling face took up most of the photo, but Anders could see Fenris’s arm around the boy. His cover photo was of a nice graphical image of a wolf. He wondered if Fenris designed it himself…

Anders sighed and started scrolling through the page. Fenris didn’t seem to post very much as all the activity seemed to mostly be from the past couple of days. 

Fenris: Hati says he wants a cat and name him Skoll. I would assume this was the mage’s influence if it was any other name but Skoll. 

Hawke: GET HIM A DOG! :DD

Fenris: No. 

Anders chuckled. He admitted he has spoken about cats a lot to the kids. Out of all the kids, Hati seemed one of the most interested in hearing about his amazing Ser Pounce-a-lot! 

Isabela: I heard you finally saw Anders ;)

Fenris: I have. 

Isabela: And??? >:[

Fenris: And what?

Isabela: You know what! >:U What happened?! 

Fenris: I gave him a gift. He was working. I was was not planning to take up his time. Unlike some, I am not that rude. 

Hawke: Why don’t you ever give me a gift when I return from trips?

Fenris: You don’t need them. 

Hawke: :( meanieface

Anders only stared in confusion. What was that supposed to mean? Did he need an apple? Or was that just a simple jab at Hawke? 

The next post down made Anders’s heart stop. There was a photo…of an old looking, worn, cat plush…with one of its arms sloppily sewn back on. Hati was in the photo too. He laid on the floor, having a staring contest with the old toy. 

Fenris didn’t include a comment with the photo. 

Anders wanted to go hide back in the toy closet again. He didn’t want to confront Fenris about it, nor Hati. Though it must be a bit immature to act like this over it. These past couple of days have been ridiculous! Sure, life wasn’t perfect. Living with a cat in a crappy apartment with inconsistent sleep and lack of social life kind of sucked. But at least he got used to it! Fenris just had to come in and throw a wrench in that routine! 

So when Fenris walked in, Anders found himself behind the craft counter again. For protections sake. “Why do you have my old toy?” Anders blurted out before he could stop himself. Oh Maker, why?!

Fenris, however, didn’t seem fazed at the question. “I…held onto it. Well, I held onto it, then forgot I did until I found it again.”

“…Okay but why hold onto it to begin with?” It was old. Dirty. Broken. If he wanted to give it to Hati, surely Fenris could probably have found a toy for cheap and still be better looking and in better condition than that old thing. 

Fenris rubbed his neck in discomfort. “I…originally meant to fix it and return it. Then I considered getting a replacement. But…you do not just simply find an old toy anywhere. When I found it again you also were not…here. So I could not ask what you wanted.” 

“I…see…” Maker, was that really the only thing he could get out from his throat!? Anders could not believe it. He had practically forgotten most of his youth and just like that, it all came flooding back to him. 

The apple. Anders blinked a few times. Was his memory deceiving him? 

In mid-thought, Anders watched as Fenris presented a new apple for him. “I…apologize for keeping this information from you. I did not wish to ruin our conversation with…painful reminders. I did not think it would make for a good impression.”

Anders stared at the fruit. For some reason he felt he didn’t deserve it, while feeling a want to have it. It was a gift. It was his. Fenris remembered and thought of him. Fenris may even know him better than Anders knew himself. It only made Anders feel a bit awful about the whole ordeal. After all, he knew nothing about Fenris. Nothing. Despite that, Fenris still wanted to reach out to him and mend wounds that he caused years ago. Mending that Anders wasn’t even sure he really deserved. 

Maybe…maybe he could try. Maybe they could get to know each other again. Maybe they’ve simply misunderstood each other all this time…

He wanted to keep thinking about it. There were a lot of factors to consider after all. But he found his body moving despite that. Anders put his hands over the apple with a whispered. “It’s okay…I forgive you.” 

Anders found he still could not finish some of his lunch. A couple of days he even ‘forgets’ to bring it. Nothing was appetizing when you didn’t have something to make you feel protected. He didn’t speak to the kids at his lunch table, as they seemingly grew bored of him from being sad too long.

Anders blinked in surprise when a juicy red apple was placed before him. He looked up to see the gifter running off to the hallway. At least, Anders guessed it was the gifter. Not many other kids were running off like that, especially during lunchtime. Anders picked up the apple and followed. He didn’t need to go far as just from standing by the door he easily spotted one kid sitting down on the floor against the wall. Anders slowly went down the corridor to him. 

It hasn’t been long since school started, and he wasn’t familiar with everyone’s names yet. He still recognized this kid, an elf, as one of the boys who picked on Mr. Meow. So why was he given an apple by him? Maybe it was a mistake. “I think you dropped this.” Anders held the apple before him until the other boy looked up. He didn’t look long as his gaze went back back down to the ground, as if ashamed.

“…its for you…” he muttered quietly, still not looking at Anders.

Anders only stared back in confusion. Why was he given food? Out of all the kids in his class, even he can see the elf boy before him didn’t have a lot of it. He’s seen other kids sometimes even share their own lunch.

“…I’m not hungry,” Anders eventually answered. He had a feeling maybe the elf boy was though.

“I can’t take it.” the other boy replied matter of factly.

“Why not?”

“It’s a gift. So it’s yours now.”

Anders looked at the apple, again, confused. But what if he didn’t want it? Can you give gifts back? “It’s a gift…?” he asked. It wasn’t his birthday after all.

The other boy went quiet again and returned to staring at the floor. Anders didn’t say anything but he sat before the other. The elf didn’t seem to like it when you looked down at him. Anders tried to present the apple again but the attention wasn’t given to it.

Finally, the other boy started speaking again. “I’m sorry about your toy…”

Anders froze up. This was about Mr. Meow?

“I didn’t mean to make you sad. I wanted you to stop being sad…”

For some reason, Anders felt something good inside him. He didn’t know what it meant but it was a good feeling and that was all that mattered.

Anders offered the apple again. “Can we share it?” 

The look Anders got was of surprise, but even he could see the eager yes in those green eyes before the words were even said. 

He never got a new Mr. Meow, but things seemed okay now even without him. 

[uzum4k1-uch1h4]

Lazarus rising

A/n:So this is episode 1 of season 4 where we get to meet Castiel and I thought I’d be fun to write the episode but it took me way to much time but atleast it was because I made recherches on birds wings so have fun and please I want people’s opinions and even maybe a few likes would be good so have have fun. Oh and I wanted to try something new so it’s in third pov but still reader insert.

Warning: Dean’s death, oh wait that’s not even a warning that’s just common occurrence in our Fandom so forget it there is no warning except probably for the people who cry very easily and I mean very easily but apart from that I got nothing.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The, usually, halcyon little girl layed in her bed. Her eyes closed and tears flowing on her cheeks and little nose red from all the crying she had been doing since having woken up this morning. The pain of loosing her father still burning at her heart and the memories circling her mind.

She had been awake for less then half an hour, being awoken by a dream or a nightmare. There really wasn’t any difference anymore. Happy memories of her father or monsters hunting her unconscious form were always bound to have her waking up crying.

Dean, her father, had died, dragged to hell for lack of better words, a few months earlier and since then she had followed either Bobby or Sam around, not that the youngest hunter appreciated that fact. The mini Winchester reminded him to much of his brother and every time he looked her way pain would claw at his chest and his vision would become foggy. So after a few weeks he left.

Being kooped up all the time wasn’t a problem for (y/n), she’d spend her days in the old hunter’s library learning about anything she could get her hands on. Even at the age of 8 she finished antic books containing words that kids twice her age hadn’t even heard. She always loved learning about monsters and new ways to get rid of them and after years of almost always being surrounded in lore books she had become a living incyclopedia on monsters.

The loneliness burning at her soul wasn’t even the worst part, it was just the first part, the easy part. The worst part was when she’d learn something new, a new monster, a new skill or even when she’d draw something for him, she’d always go to him first. She’d go to him immediately always wanting to be good enough for him, for her father. And every time he’d give her the same proud look, a smile blossoming in his face when he’d see her work.

But months ago he was ripped from her so that he could save his brother. She didn’t blame Sam, she new her father well enough to now that he would hate for her to hold a grudge against the brother he loved so much, so she tried to act the same way she did in his presence. She didn’t have to keep doing that much longer tho. Since her father was taken from them all the little 8 years old had been stuck between four walls and she wasn’t planing on changing her routine.

Her thoughts of the past had been cut when someone knocked at the door. Bobby’s home rarely got visitors so imagine her surprise when someone appeared on the doorway so early in the morning, well she thought it was morning but it was atleast 2 o'clock.

Even though she was curious she didn’t move from her bed when she heard snippets of conversation. She easily recognized Bobby’s voice but the second one was familiar and something told her to go and see who it was, she knew that voice. Although she heard the voices the conversation itself flew right by her and she didn’t even try to concentrate on the words being spoken but when she heard yells and fighting she knew it wasn’t an old friend visiting.

Rapidly jumping from her bed she made her way down the stairs as quietly as she could to give the stranger, who’s back was to her, a look. Baseball bat in hand she inched closer to the intruder when she saw that they had stopped fitting and that both were now hugging, Bobby almost crying in relief.

(Y/n) didn’t know what the man had said, being to concentrated thinking she completely stopped listening what was happening meters away. When Bobby saw her he put his hands on the man’s shoulders, gave a tap and then left to the other room leaving the two people still in the entrance to talk and reunit.

When the taller man turned around the bat (y/n) had held firmly in her hands fell to the ground at her shock. It was impossible, he wasn’t alive, she had seen his corpse all bloody and bruised. He couldn’t be in front of her. She was dreaming and she would wake up just before she could feel his protective embrace like in just about every dreams like this one.

It was just a sick and twisted dream that she was having. Something worth of a Djinn’s work. That was it she was imagining it or something and then she’d wake up and the pain would come back and hit her like a truck.

Dean saw the hurt, the desperation, the pain, he saw all those emotions in the blink of an eye go through his baby girl’s eyes. He saw all those emotions he had promised to protect her from and the worst was that he was the reason why she was feeling them.

He stepped closer to her and she, in return, stepped back. Dean knew she didn’t trust him but even then it hurt, the pain tore him apart and it hurt more then any physical pain he may have endured in hell.

“Hey baby girl, it’s me” he said slowly trying not to scare her away. Seing as she stepped back when he tried to get closer to her he stayed put and waited for her to do something. And finally she reacted. The tears kept coming and her hiccups shaked her small body, Dean couldn’t keep apart anymore and in a step she was in her father’s arms crying and pleading for him to be real and not another dream.

Dean remembered when his father died not long ago, he remembered how it hurt and then he cried, he cried because he knew what he put his baby girl through, he cried because he thought that when he’d be gone everyone would get over it after a while. He cried because he forgot that he was the only parent she had and without thinking he left her.

Finally the little girl calmed down and her breathing evened as she fell asleep because of exhaustion. With trembling hands Dean pushed the hair that fell in his princess’s face. His tear stained face trembled at the effort of not breaking down crying, sobbing uncontrollably. He had hurt his baby girl and himself in the process of saving his brother. Sure he didn’t regret to have saved him but at the same time he did. He never wanted to see the same expression on her face.

Gently cradling the kid in his arms he climbed the stairs and put her in her bed before sitting by her side, her little hand in his much bigger one.

~Time skip!~

Right now (Y/n) was sleeping in the back of Bobby’s car. Dean and the older hunter sat at the front, the green eyed one cleaning the remaining blood from his ears. Earlier when he was still in his motel room with his little girl, Sam was missing, he had been… lets say ‘attacked’ and he didn’t know by who or what. He had almost become deaf become of the sound that rang all through the room and yet (Y/n) hadn’t been affected by it and had kept sleeping unaware of her surroundings.

So now the three of them were headed for some place safe were they could summon the thing that supposedly brought him back from hell. The men both knew it would be dangerous to bring the little girl with them but after all the traps Bobby had ever heard of would be set up nowhere would be safer then behind the both of them, or atleast it would be safer then the car.

Getting out of the car both hunters took the paint and the books they would need to help them make the different warding sigils to keep whatever it was from escaping without giving answers to them.

Finally after hours of preparation the three of them, (Y/n) had woken after a while, stood ready for the encentation to summon the being start.

“This is still a bad idea” said Bobby, shaking his head in disapproval before looking at the 8 years old’s way.

“Yeah Bobby I heard you the first 10 times” called Dean after the older men walked away.

“What do you say we ring the diner bell” he said looking at his baby girl and wondering if bringing her with them had been a good idea, not that he could change it now but he couldn’t think of anything else except her safety.

And just like that Bobby began reciting the incantation. (Y/n) headed for Dean and grabed a fistful of his jeans to help herself feel less scared, she knew that with her dad nothing would happen to her and yet she couldn’t help but feel terrified, especially when the roof began to move almost as if it would fly away any second now but by that time Bobby had already finished talking for a while now.

“Wishful thinking but maybe it’s just the wind" and right as the words left his mouth the lights exploded around them and the barn’s door opened slowly, almost to dramatically, and a trench coat wearing men stepped in.

When the men started getting closer seemingly unaffected by the sigils both hunters started shooting and before long stopped seeming it didn’t affect him. Exchanging his gun for a knife Dean asked the men who know stood before him who he was.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition” the newcomer announced almost proudly, almost being a key word in the sentence.

“Yeah thanks for that” and as the words escaped his mouth him raised the knife and hit the men before him in the heart and his only reaction was to look down at his chest almost curiously.

Griping the knife the dark haired men let the object fall to the ground, the sound of the metal ringing loudly. Seeing that what Dean did didn’t affect the blue eyed men Bobby raised his own knife and swinged at his neck before the metal part was grabbed and two fingers were pressed to his forehead before he fell in a heap to the floor.

“We need to talk Dean” he began before finally noticing the petite body hiding behind the hunter. “Alone” he stated.

~mini time skip!~

“Your friend is alive” called the men as he read through Bobby’s books when he saw Dean check for a pulse in the hunter’s neck.

“Who are you” came the cold response. Dean was pissed, that ‘thing’ came barging in before turning Bobby into sleeping Beauty before threatening his baby girl. The men had decided to leave he conscious but still he was very angry.

“Castiel” was his short response.

“Yeah I figured that much I mean what are you” said Dean getting more irked by the second.

“I’m an angel of the Lord” Castiel said, this time looking at Dean and judging his reaction.

“Get the hell outa here, there’s no such thing” Dean exclaimed, aggravated that the stranger would’ve thought he believed in such things.

“This is your problem dean you have no faith” Castiel said looking at Dean almost in empathy.

The silence was broken by thunder and behind Castiel, on the wall, an enormous set of wings unfurled. The surprise on Dean’s face hid the fear for the little girl who still stood behind him.

When the flash disappeared (Y/n) kept looking just behind the angel, a look of awe graced her features and she remembered the book she had read not long ago on birds wings.

“Mister angel” she said quietly but in the silence both people in the room, the third one didn’t count he was still sleeping, heard her. Dean’s grip on her arm became more tight mentally beging her not to say anything.

“Mister Castiel what’s wrong with your wings?” She asked but was only met with a curious expression.

“The alulas on each side are broken, on your right side the 2nd and 3rd primaries and the 1st and 2nd secondaries are missing. On your left wing two primaries are broken and one secondary is two. And your molting at the wrong time of the year that means something bad happened to you” she said.

After her explanation Dean looked at her wide eyed where as a look of understanding crossed over Catsiel’s features. She could see and hear an angel that was why earlier she had subsided no damage when he tried to gain contact with Dean and why she still saw his wings.

Talking about wings, she was right. Severe damage had injured his wings greatly when he rescued Dean from hell, enough to make him have an out-of-season molt which was rare because usually injuries are cured rapidly by his grace but the damage was far to great this time.

And with a nod of acknowledgement at the little girl’s way the angel disappeared.

End!

[sickdaysofficial]

Sickdays #2: Sick at a Party

Fandom: My original work. I need a catchy name for my stuff. I’m shit at naming tho. Send help.

Characters: Kit, Violet, and unfortunately, Kit’s family

A/N: all my posts this week come with an illustration. All the illustrations will also be posted separately on my blog so they’re easier to find.

Kit Raycraft was curled up on his couch, leaning against the arm closer to the fireplace. He had gotten out of the hospital a couple days ago, but still wasn’t feeling well. His head was aching, he felt drained, and he had been coughing up a lung almost endlessly since waking up in the hospital. Approaching footsteps prompted him to look up from his novel, and his brow furrowed in distaste as he saw his father and stepmother standing over him, dressed even more pretentiously than usual.

“Can I help you?” He grumbled.

“Actually, you can.” Mr. Raycraft replied. “You need to go get ready”

Now Kit was confused. “Get ready for what?”

“Christian, don’t you remember?” His stepmother asked. “The fundraiser gala starts in two hours. We talked about this yesterday.”

Kit scowled. Partly because the last thing he wanted to do was go to a party, and partly because he hated the fact that his stepmother insisted on calling him Christian. He’d reminded her a thousand times that ‘Kit’ or ‘Ruby’ was fine, but she never seemed to care.

“And why do I have to go?” He asked.

His father replied sternly, “It’s a matter of appearances. You will show up, you will look good, and you will be a gracious host. If I hear of you acting unpleasantly, this will be the last evening you spend in this house.”

Giving a rattly sigh, the red-haired boy tucked a slip of paper into his book to mark his spot. He climbed to his feet and shuffled off to his bedroom to get dressed. Tonight was going to be hell. He hated wearing tuxedos. He hated his parents’ rich, arrogant friends. Most of all, he hated the ultimatum hanging over his head. He should have seen this coming. ‘Parasite,’ ‘freeloader,’ and ‘waste of space’ were the favoured terms used to describe him around the house. That didn’t make it less awful. He sighed again and trailed off into a cough, already dreading the evening to come.

The Raycraft ballroom was massive, and its decorations were as grand as its size. Softy glittering lights were draped about the room, and the air was filled with the smell of rich food and drink. A skilled band graced the gala with live music, and the soft chatter of guests intertwined with the lively notes.

Kit had taken up residence at an unoccupied table in the corner. He had managed to avoid human interaction for now, as well as stay out of his father’s line of sight. Despite his successes, he felt worse than ever. A throbbing ache was growing just behind his eyes, he’d coughed so much his throat was raw, and he found himself shivering despite the layers of formalwear that he normally felt to be stifling.

A figure slipped into the chair opposite his at the table, and Kit prayed for a swift death. He blinked a few times to bring his zoned-out blur of a visual field back to focus, and was pleasantly surprised to see Violet sitting opposite him. She looked stunning. Her vibrant blue dress brought out the matching colour of her eyes, and her normally pinned-up dark hair was cascading down her back.

“Are you alright?” Violet frowned, a mixture of concern and guilt in her eyes.

Kit knew she still blamed herself for him nearly dying of hypothermia (to be honest it really was her fault) and was thusly very worried about his well-being. He shook his head, knowing she would easily see through any lie he attempted.

“No. I feel awful. Father will have my head if I leave, though.” He groaned, rubbing his temples as he tried to soothe his growing headache.

“Yikes. Want a snack? They’ve got your favourite truffles.”

“Not hungry.”

“How about a drink? Get your mind off things a little?”

He shook his head. “Tried. Didn’t help.” The several glasses of wine he’d downed were sitting sourly in his stomach, having failed to do their usual job of easing his nerves and raising his spirits.

Violet pursed her lips in concern, trying to think of any way to help. “You’re sure he’d notice you leave?” “P-” Kit paused to cough for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Positive.”

Sighing quietly, Violet gave the younger boy a firm pat on the back. Though still strong, her touch seemed far less aggressive than usual. Kit didn’t question it, since he had a feeling he knew why.

“Just try and relax. If your parents get onto you about slouching in the corner, we can fake a dance.”

He gave a weak smile. “Thanks, Vi.”

“No problem.”

The night droned on at a painfully slow pace, and Kit was looking increasingly worse for the wear. Violet had managed to ward off the guests that had come near by fake flirting and chatting with him, but he had gone from ‘not feeling great’ to ‘fucking miserable’ over the last few hours. The boisterous music had only served to aggravate his headache, and he felt as though he were freezing, even though the body heat of all the guests had heated the room to an almost uncomfortable warmth over the course of the evening.

He couldn’t focus very well anymore, and Kit’s last dregs of hope sank all the way to Tartarus as an old friend of his father’s scooted her way past Violet to talk to him.

“Christian, dear, how are you?” She beamed and grabbed his hand.

Kit cringed to his very core, but the snobby old woman didn’t seem to notice. “I’m alright, Ms. Rees. And you?”

“Oh, I’m wonderful, dear. I’m wonderful. You know, this event is marvelous. Reminds me of the time your father and I…”

Without even trying to, Kit’s brain started to drown her out. Alexandra Rees was notorious for being able to ramble for hours on end entirely about herself. Her voice dissolved into a vague posh-sounding droning in his ear, and Kit simply mumbled an acknowledgement when she paused, muffling a cough into his fist every few minutes. He wanted to leave so badly. His head was pounding, his chest and throat were aching, he was freezing, and he was definitely starting to regret downing several glasses of wine on an empty stomach. Normally he could easily handle such a quantity of alcohol, but the constant coughing was shaking his body rather roughly, and the last few coughs had brought the taste of sour grape juice to the back of his throat.

A particularly violent coughing fit brought a mouthful of wine up with it, and Kit was forced to clamp a hand over his mouth, forcing it back down with a grimace. He swallowed uncomfortably before finally stammering, “T…terribly sorry, Ms. Rees, but I need to see to something in the kitchen. It’s been a pl… ulp… pleasure talking to you.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kit climbed to his feet and darted down the hall. Violet frowned as she watched him disappear around the corner, but she didn’t know whether she should follow. Deciding to wait and see if he returned, she looked over to see how the old lady had reacted to Kit’s sudden departure. Seemingly unphased, the long-winded crone simply turned to Violet and resumed her painfully long story.

Sitting up with a start, Violet was surprised to realize she had begun to doze off. It made more sense when she looked across the table to see Ms. Rees still unabashedly rambling in her direction. She suddenly grew concerned, however, as she realized Kit wasn’t back. Since she knew Rees wouldn’t notice, she pulled out her phone to check the time. Ten fifteen. Kit had to have been gone nearly an hour by now.

Violet cleared her throat. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you mind if I go and freshen up? It’s been a long evening, and I think my makeup needs a bit of fixing.”

“No trouble. No trouble at all. Go right ahead. I’ll be here.” The old woman smiled.

“Thank you.” Violet stood and walked off down the hall where Kit had vanished almost an hour before. Having spent a good portion of her life in the Raycraft mansion, it took her no time at all to find the bathroom her friend had taken sanctuary in. She rapped her knuckles against the door.

“Kit? You there?”

“Y–ahem… yeah…” His voice was hoarse and rather quiet.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, go ahead. Do… door shouldn’t be locked.”

Opening the door, Violet frowned to see Kit slouched against the bathroom wall. He was pale and shivering, coughing his lungs out into a fistful of toilet paper.

“Jesus christ. You look awful.” She remarked.

Kit attempted to make a sarcastic reply, but after being cut off three times by coughing, he gave up. Violet seemed even more worried by this.

“Your father be damned, you need to go to bed. You’re sick.”

Panicked, Kit shook his head. “H..he’ll kick me out.”

“If he tries, I’ll fight him. You’re ill and you need to rest. Come on.”

Without giving Kit a chance to reply, Violet picked him up and started walking back towards his bedroom, giving his back a light pat whenever he coughed. Though he seemed a bit wary to leave the party, Kit didn’t object, and seemed quite relieved to be deposited on his bed.

“Just relax a second. I’ll find you some pajamas to put on.”

He nodded. “Th…thanks.”

“No problem. Need anything else?”

“Painkillers would be good. Maybe some water.” Kit’s words were punctuated with a harsh cough.

Violet made a mental note of his requests, nodding and heading towards the door.

“Oh, one more thing. Vi?”

“Yeah?”

“If you try to drag me out in the snow again, I’ll kill you.”

  behold. miserable lonely Kit.