Ohhh, how about giant ace and tiny y/n or an OC of yours (whatever you are more comfortable with!) were he sees them as a threat first? So it’s kinda fearplay-ish but it ends good? I’ve been starved of One Piece g/t and I found your blog today so thank you! :]
Yay, I have finished it, even if I thought the writing like two times and I forgot what I was actually going to write both times. It has a bit of fearplay and the end is fluff. Also this is a bit short ;-;
The timeline is before Blackbeard kills Thatch, so they're still cool.
I also used another of my oc's for this fic; which is female and 14 years old (Reference at the end of the fic btw :])
With a heavy sigh he left the Striker on one of the shores, hidden from view, he didn't want to get in trouble with the Marines in the early hours of the morning. Little did he know that his boat would have a visitor shortly after he left.
The borrower watched intently as the human walked away, climbing onto his boat when he disappeared completely from sight. It took a bit of time due to her size, but after a few minutes, she finally managed to get inside and try to hide as best she could. All she wanted right now was to get away from this disgusting island and stay hidden from the humans.
She brushed her hair off her shoulders, sitting on one of the inner corners of the small boat, while both of her hands gripped the straps of her backpack/bag.
//
It wasn't long before Ace was back on the boat, standing still before climbing onto it. Although he couldn’t see inside completely, he knew someone/something was there and he didn't like that at all, as it could be a threat.
He crouched low and leaned over the floor of the Striker as his left hand caught fire. Immediately there was a scream from there and he leaned in fully to see, his eyes widening at the sight of a person who seemed to be no bigger than his hand.
He quickly put out the fire in his hand, slowly reaching towards the person to pick her up. The tiny only pressed further into the corner. When Ace was about to reach her… “No! no no no no! Stay away! Do not touch me!" The tiny girl yelled, tears beginning to fall from her eyes, hugging herself as she tried to get further away from Ace, even though she knew she couldn't.
Ace sighed as he passed his hand, which he had just moved away from the little person, over his face. "Look, uh... I'm not going to hurt you, okay? I just thought you were an enemy or something that had snuck into my boat, I didn't think you were a tiny girl..." If he was honest, he really felt bad about scaring a girl who wasn't even bigger than his hand.
The girl looked at him for a moment, before wiping away her tears. "You promise?" Ace smiled widely seeing that she intended to trust him. "Sure, although, can I ask you what were you doing inside my boat?" She looked away for a moment before replying. “I got on here because I want to leave this island, I don't want to be here anymore…” Ace nodded in understanding.
"It seems understandable to me, although I don't think you would like being down there, that area is going to be completely filled with fire." The tiny girl's green eyes widened in shock. "Of fire? So where should I go?" She asked as she let herself be picked up by the human.
"I could hold you all the way back to the ship." he answered with a smile. "To the ship? Are you a pirate? If so, I don't think-” Ace simply cut her off. "Yes, I am a pirate, I belong to the Shirohige pirates crew and don't worry, they will surely love to meet you, especially the pineapple head." He said with a small laugh.
"Are you sure?" "Absolutely, don't worry." He replied holding the tiny girl closer. She just settled into his soft grip, closing her eyes. "Thanks, by the way, my name is Samantha even though they call me Sam." "Ace." he said as he finally headed towards Shirohige's ship.
Here's Samantha's reference drawing, I just remake her into my actual drawing style, it didn't change much though :)
TLDR: The horrors of Cyberlife never seem to fade even after the revolution...
Word Count: 2,460
TW: Angst, Violence & Character Death (I don't know how it went there)
A/N: Prompts: 36. “They’re monsters.” & 2. “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.” | Ahhh! Your comments make my year! Hope this turns out the way you like! Thanks so much for dropping me a prompt exchange. :) My queue is open!
How can it end like this?
A question swirling around in your brain ever since news broke about an incursion orchestrated by the very people who pretend to integrate with public opinion. The war was won. Androids were no longer at the mercy of persecution and everyone waited in baited breath about the outcome involving Cyberlife.
Following the revolution they proposed a peaceful continuation of the company. Skepticism is ripe for the picking. This isn’t just something androids were leery of. Humans, civilians having nothing to do with it, voicing questions.
Cyberlife never answers. They did now.
Your breath catches. More you attempt to find a flaw in this lab in order to escape the less hopeful.
Why throw you here in the first place? Easy. This is a higher level. Anyone who tries to get in will face a bigger accumulation of guards. Those same men who...
Tears threaten but nothing spills readily. People have died and you are bait.
“Nines,” you whisper defeated.
He went deviant too. Like so many others.
Cyberlife waits and waits to concoct a scheme. Now it’s in full swing because Detroit is chaos. Never imagined this will somehow be worse. It is. It is so much worse.
Connor is already gone. Everything is in shambles and it is all due to those...
Your head rises quickly. Shouting echoes down corridor becoming louder, closer up until thunderous pops of gunfire eclipse the original cacophony.
Pounding floods your ears. This time it’s an erratic heartbeat and everything tingles in a swath of dread. Sweeping down head to toe increases discomfort not that you’ve had a pleasant time here.
Apprehended like this despite being part of the DPD is ridiculous itself. When there are multiple security guards armed to the teeth there isn’t much proper training can do to alleviate that situation. Unless dying is what you want to do.
Makes you sicker knowing. Several officers cut down in cold blood. What is this all for except Cyberlife’s unwillingness to allow freedom for everyone to live together. Accomplishing another megalomaniac plan to control or eradicate and this time everyone’s caught.
Crossfire is a horrific thing. Innocent people will suffer the most.
As your thoughts swirl in this entrapment it’s obvious why. Part of you felt as much when they took you alive.
All of this started when responding to a generic emergency call. Ambushed. They knew. Somehow they manage to take you knowing that he-
The noise stops. It ceases everything even your thought because the door busts open under a powerful kick. Shrinking back on hard surface of table doesn’t last because nothing can make you flinch away now.
“Y/N.” The RK900 moves swiftly through lab.
“Nines.” The strangling whisper accompanies your spring up to feet. How did he even…? Your body molds with his as a key in a lock. It will always open because these two parts are of one whole. “They’re monsters.”
“Hey, hey, calm down.” His words soothe in a gentler less stiff timbre. Perhaps it is a bit more human than he realizes but this moment does not offer much time for analysis. With you in his arms it is far more imperative to protect, comfort. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”
Soft promises make your legs weak. Exhaustion eats away at your body. Only the firm sheltering embrace of your android lover keeps you afloat. Strange but this is the first time you realize how painstakingly soft he is.
Only in privacy far from prying eyes; Nines never wants to outwardly show affection for eye witnesses. He feels it’s none of their concern.
Why should he do that when he shows you how much emotion exists in your private sanctuary? You find it typical. Or so you did…
This means more. Even if he took out several guards to stop an audience at this point it really wouldn’t matter. Somehow this tells you how much Nines really loves you. There is no hesitation. Certain things just evaporate the fog of doubt encasing your heart and clear the way.
Peering into his face, gripping up onto broad shoulders serves as an anchor. All that’s on your mind now is how happy you are seeing him in one piece. After what they did to Connor –
His lips meet yours in urgency. Pulling both of you flush together settles indicator into flickering amber a drop from its initial scarlet warning because you are safe. He does not say it aloud.
Unspoken, intense and full of pure emotion the android cradles you as a delicate flower petal. Wild and untamed blowing in the wind and his presence abates its wilting chill.
“Nines.” Breathing up into his lips says everything and nothing at all. “Thank God you…”
“Step away from the human, RK900!”
Jolting back from Nines at the cutting demand fills your lungs in a shock of breath. Connor?
An immediate aim of handgun in your direction answers before you know what’s happening. A shove forces you out of range putting you in contact with one of those lab tables. Stabilizing on two feet is too late to act further.
RK900 grimaces in the path of fire. Preventing deadly precision striking in a vital area that will surely lead to your death, the android absorbs gunshot. The quick action allows a useful shield to protect.
A moment after he staggers in a collapse. Thudding to wall brings the advanced android down in a slide. Knocking every thread out of his system it is immediate:
Error
Critical Malfunction
Imminent Shutdown
Even so the sound of your terrified voice fills his core. “Nines! No!”
Frantic hands clutch at the front of his white jacket. Sinking down automatically brings you close on knees pressing hands over a hole in his sweater torn from gunshot. Blue blood stains your skin creating a sickening drop pit of stomach. It’s visceral. A grisly hue means life ebbing away and he is alive. He is.
He’s hit where his thirium pump is. It’s obvious from how horribly Nines slumped. Never did you ever imagine seeing him crumble in such a way. Not him. Not the very powerful storm that sweeps you away along his torrent.
Exactly what describes that initial attraction you held meeting him. Eye of the storm in steel unmakes you each night in his fiery regard. He can weather any tempest because he is that gale. There is nothing more you love.
“Faster, stronger,” the other android mocks effectively.
Coward! He shoots Nines when he’s distracted. That’s the only reason! He-he put himself in the way. No, he can’t do this.
“More resilient,” the duplicate continues unnecessarily smug. “But not for me.”
Tears blind in a messy streak unable to see this fake clearly. Instead he resembles a blur, a nightmare figment seemingly crawling out of the depths of every one of your darkest fears. The idea this thing is identical to Connor makes insides churn to the point of retching.
Never would the soft doe-eyed android hurt Nines. They held a peculiar relationship but in the end developed an understanding. This is not Connor. It even isn’t the one you heard about from the warehouse.
“Nines! Nines, look at me.”
Desperately cupping his face drew his crystalline gaze, icy but never frigid when he looks at you now. “Y/N…”
“No.” You choke on that plea. “Please, don’t leave me.”
The android behind you watches in disinterest. Brandishing weapon in steady footsteps brings him closer. “Why do humans like you wish to sacrifice for a machine? We do not feel anything.”
Anger twists the anguish in your features. Throwing a sharp glance up at the faux Connor evaporates all of this fear riddling your heart. “You don’t feel! Connor, Nines…they felt! They’re alive.” Were alive.
Liquid spilling from the ducts of your eyes forces a grimace on the goading duplicate’s face. Tears shed over a filthy deviant when he is loyal to their creators.
There is no denying this connection between machine and human is unsettling. It is enough to watch and feel a strange pull center of his chest. The loyal machine steps back in a huff against that unfamiliar sensation.
“Cyberlife will win,” the faux Connor promises. “All of these deviants will be destroyed. But…you may leave.”
Leave? As if that’s even an option! “No,” you sneer. “I’m not going anywhere!”
“Y/N.” Grabbing onto wrist breaks your heated exchange with Connor’s doppelganger. Nines looks to you with something far different in his once stoic shell. There is only you. “Go. My Flower.”
What is he-? “Nines, I won’t leave you.”
“I am shutting down,” he is blunt. To be unkind is not his motive but to save you still. “I-I love you.”
Always in your heart you knew it was true. While he may not have said those words before everything he ever did was a sign. Now they crush whatever is left of a soul because he is yours. How can this happen?
Please, please wake up!
This is a nightmare. All of this cannot be real. Unfortunately all the pleading in the world can’t undo reality.
“Listen to your deviant lover. You were taken as a tool to use in a lure. We have no further need of you.”
Thinking on how much time Nines has left fuels brand new determination. You rise to feet. Moving towards the fake Connor, heart hammering in chest, there’s something gleaming just under the surface. When he made this offer to let you go it clicks.
Machine he says. Loyal to Cyberlife who are nothing more than mass murderers at this point; you reach up to place hands against the clone’s chest.
Issue jacket with Cyberlife branding as Connor once wore but he stopped. This is the only sign needed to know this is not your friend.
The android stutters. Physically jolting from your touch it leaves his LED a flood of crimson. “What game are you playing?”
“Proving a point,” the response is dangerous to his unfeeling self. It’s in his eyes. He’s…afraid.
You squeeze eyes shut not to look when pulling the clone into you. Kissing him hastily brings a hand down to his. Fingers stretch for handgun, ready to snag and blow his head off.
Yet your movement knocks off kilter when this supposed unfeeling machine grabs on. Pressing a harsher, hungrier kiss back sinks your entire plan and self preservation.
All instinct to pull away kicks in as your ruse seemingly backfires. Until he thrusts you off himself both incensed at his participation and privy to where your hand grabs.
In a split second the gun goes off striking faux Connor in the shoulder. A heavy swat of arm knocking you down is what you receive harshly in return. The frazzled android’s attention on your trickery completely fails.
The RK900 locks a crushing arm around the machine’s neck. Coming up behind while your actions wrestle weapon away it is the only preconstruction offering high probability of success.
Holding upright onto the RK800 copy as much as struggling to gain upper hand careens them both into clinical table. Thirium stains the faux Connor’s jacket where Nines continues to lose volume.
Shutdown 1 min 23 seconds
A crack of knuckles connects revealing the white plastic beneath. Marring synthetic flesh clean off the duplicate’s cheek reveals more of the machine he so readily claims to be. Even with all those parts, circuitry exposing true internal clockwork, androids can be more living than other organisms.
Deviancy is not weakness.
Nines remembers. You told him that once. And that is what gives him strength while tearing open faux Connor’s shirt and ripping thirium pump cleanly from its port.
A gasp escapes where you pick yourself up off floor. Their skirmish hardly lasts but those seconds feel an eternity. Watching the phony twitch, attempt to crawl and swipe fingers out at Nines brings his digits in a vice on the android’s black shoe.
The same sole pulls free and crushes down atop the so-called loyal machine’s digits. Loyalty you disproved with a ruse that ultimately destroys him.
“Nines?” Your voice is thick. Watching him hunch over, tossing away stuttering red glowing pump, his back straightens stiffly in an all too human huff of artificial breath.
RK900 blinks. Processing, analyzing his system status. For now he is able to function to complete his mission: you.
“The RK800 is backwards compatible,” he explains, clearly seeing your tear stained face and no longer blind to critical warnings.
Backwards compatible? Why didn’t he say that?! You thought maybe in an act of desperation but there was no way of knowing for sure.
“Oh my God.” Part of you wants to punch him in the shoulder for that but the simple urgency to bury within his chest overwhelms. “I’m sorry.”
Murmuring quietly does not prevent RK900 hearing every catch in breath that spills from your lips, ones that he must reclaim over and over again after that pathetic clone. However, he is hardly irate on account of the dire circumstance.
“Don’t worry. I believe you are quite efficient.”
Praise from mister stoicism? That’s funny. Too bad it’s not in a normal situation because you would laugh. Thankfully there is a chance to do that again. With him it’s all you want.
“Are you OK, Nines? Tell me, please…”
A tug to his synthetic heart turns the advanced model into everything he originally fought against. At one time he held similar thoughts to the Cyberlife machine. Emotions cannot be for his kind nor will they invade his system.
Now you invade every single circuit. Each thread yearns to fuse itself with the core spirit of your body. This will not change that. He will destroy all who threaten to remove this one humane light.
“I am fully operational until I receive a proper repair.” Nines narrows eyes onto the fallen android while speaking softly.
The tremble in your body is all too apparent. Shock is a high probability despite how strong, savvy you behaved. It is an interesting ruse you manage but why must he question skills while in the same employment?
“The DPD is in the middle of everything. A chaotic turn of events,” cool sarcasm benefits your state. Discussing this will come later. He realizes his near death will have emotional and mental consequences.
“You are safe now. I-I will take you home with me.”
Any other case or important life threatening scenario and he would wind up staying. This time is different. He has something to lose. That something is remarkably you.
One thing is true. You didn’t lose him now. You can’t lose him ever. No matter what comes of this there is only the RK900′s shield to harbor you until the end.
Here is yet another Sherlock request I had gotten, now this one was especially difficult for me to write because so much was going on in my personal life I couldn’t find the inspiration to write it to make it feel good but thankfully I fell through and found a path I liked when I got the prompt. Now this request contains child neglect, swearing, violence, mentions of drug use so BEWARE. Anyways I hope u all enjoy this request either way.
It was all an experiment to him. Years before he became the infamous High functioning sociopathic detective "Sherlock Holmes", he was a High functioning sociopath at Cambridge University well mainly forced to go and at least get some form of education. During one of his drug runs he got into it with a woman and mistakenly had me, (Y/n) Holmes.
My then so called mother dumped me on my dad because she would rather use her money to buy her coke instead of baby formula. So for the next five years my dad had left school to raise me....well I really wouldn't even say that either.
Now don't get me wrong he never touched me badly or even beat me but sometimes I wish he would at least notice me once in a while but he was always invested in his work. Sometimes I feel like he doesn't even know that I exist. When I try to get his attention he always either doing some sciency-stuff or trying to score some drugs with some of his friends.
But I guess he must have some kindness in him because whenever he's about to go on the stuff, he drops me off at grandma's and grandpa's house while he does his things. Though still I wish he wasn't like that and would spend some time with me.
One night grandma was tucking me in for the night after spending a week at their house when I finally got the nerve to ask my grandma.
"Grandma?"
"Yes dearie what is it?"
"Is daddy a bad man?" She looked at me with sad eyes and said to me.
"No poppet, he's not a bad man".
"Then why is he never around? Does he not like me?"
"Oh darling, sometimes your daddy just gets a little lost which makes him do things that he doesn't mean to do". She then kissed my forehead and finished, "Never doubt that he loves you, once he gets on his feet he'll find you". She stood up but before he left my bedroom I called out to her and she turned to look at me and I handed her my small flashlight.
"Can you give this to daddy? So that he can find his way home".
"Of course I will dearie, goodnight (y/n)" she told me with a sad smile.
"Goodnight grandma". She switched my light off but turned my small nightlight on and shut my door leaving me alone in my room. As I laid there in the silence of my room I muttered to myself, "Please save my daddy and bring him home safe". Then I fell fast asleep.
A week later I was playing with my dolls when there was a knock at the door. My grandpa stood up and answered it and standing outside was Uncle Mycroft.
"Mycroft".
"Hello father".
"What's this all about son?"
"Not good news I'm afraid, mind if I come in?" Grandpa allowed uncle Mycroft inside and they all headed towards the kitchen to talk. Curiosity got the better of me so I walked towards the kitchen door and leaned my ear against it and heard everything that was being said.
Uncle Mycroft said that daddy had gotten into trouble again and this time the police had to "arrest him" whatever that meant. While I was listening, I didn't notice the two men that Mycroft always brings along with him came up behind me and one of them picked me up and took me outside and placed me inside one of the cars.I was then buckled in and uncle Mycroft came in and he told me as the two men sat on either side of me.
"So sorry about this my dear niece, but we must keep you safe from the name 'Sherlock Holmes'".
"Where are we going uncle Mycroft?" I asked as I held onto my doll tightly in fear.
"Nowhere you need to be afraid of my dear, we're going to meet an old acquaintance of mine. Runs a special safe house for children like you". I didn't know what he was talking about, all I did was just hold my doll tighter as the car drove away from my grandparent's place.
Next thing I know, we arrive at a big building that read "Miss Clavel's Home and Boarding for Orphan Girls". I just looked at the big building with lots and lots of windows. The car stopped and my uncle and his men got out of the car with me being carried by my uncle. We walked towards the building and there stood a young woman wearing a long black dress with a hat over her head that had some white at the top of it and the rest being black.
"Clara Clavel".
"Mycroft Holmes, is this your niece?"
"Yes, (y/n) this is Clara Clavel, she runs the building, now I want you to stay here and be a good girl that I know that you are for her".
"Okay Uncle, will I be coming back home soon though?" He didn't answer me but just set me down and Miss Clavel gently took my hand and the two of us watched as my uncle and his men got back into the car and just drove off.
"Come along now (y/n), let us get you settled in, you're just in time for story time with the other girls". She then led me inside the building and I began my new life in Miss Clavel's Home and Boarding.
*13 years later*
I spent about a year and a half in Miss Clavel's care before I was adopted by a loving and caring family. I excelled in school and graduated 2 years earlier and received a college degree by age 16 and for the next two years I have been working in an internship helping out children who suffer from neglectful or abusive parents.
Although I do check up on the news of my dad and hearing of how he's now become London's "High Functioning Sociopath" Detective, I'm glad he hasn't even tried to come and find me. The more I look back on how my life was with him, the more I begin to think why would he even try to get my mother pregnant with me?
The life I had after my father was far better than the five years I spent with him or my real family. If he truly cared about me he would've tried to at least find me or at least have the decency to get rid of me on his own instead he has his snake of a brother do it for him.
Maybe the Holmes family just wasn't meant to be my family, I'm just glad the (y/l/n) adopted me when they did and groomed me to be the best Child psychologist in America.
It was late one night and I was driving back from the office after a long day's work of talking to young children about their problems. Not only that but I had to stay overtime to catch up on some paperwork and deadline submissions so now all I want to do is go home, take a nice bubbly bath and sleep until lunchtime just thank god my boss allowed me the day off tomorrow.
When I got up to my house, I took notice that the door was unlocked. I could tell because it had looked like someone had recently used a makeshift key or something to unlock my door and enter inside. I then quickly took out my gun that I kept hidden in my purse and slowly entered inside my own home.
I made sure to keep the gun pointed outwards and kept my ears open for the slightest movement. It was then when I came across the living room, I was in for a shock.
"You know for a Holmes you really were hard to track down but thankfully I managed to finally get my brother to spill on where he had taken you 13 year ago and afterwards it was smooth sailing from there thought Miss Clavel did prove to be a bit of a challenge. But nothing that I'm not—" BANG! BANG! BANG! I shot around his head three times. "Now that's a bit rash isn't it? Shooting at your own—"
"Don't you dare finish that statement!" I snarled glaring daggers at him. If looked could kill he'd be all the way in hell where he belongs.
"(Y/n) I—"
"Get out!"
"No I want to speak to you!"
"Get out!"
"Not until I get a word with—" BANG!!
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW BEFORE I BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF!!"
"Sherlock I think we better leave. Now!"
"No I'm not leaving here without speaking to me dau—" BANG!!
"You've got 3 seconds before I fire, and this time I won't miss! I'm not playing here. Get the fuck out of my house NOW!!!"
"(Y/n) please just—"
"One!"
"Sherlock we need to go now!"
"TWO!!!"
"So sorry to bother you we're leaving now and I promise you'll never see him again thank you cheerio!" The short man stated as he dragged Sherlock Holmes out of my house and slammed the door shut leaving me alone in my house.
I dropped the gun and my hands started trembling and my breathing became erratic as I slowly went to the couch and slowly flipped the cushion around so now one would see the bullet holes. I also picked up the lamp that got broken from the last shot I made and shakily placed the cover back on top of it before finally collapsing to the ground crying.
The next day on my day off, I found myself driving to my office. I hastened through the hallways towards my boss's office desperately needing to talk to him.
"Dr. Wilson I know it's my day off but I needed to—Oh bloody hell".
"Your boss is currently on lunch, as are most of your coworkers and friends, leaving this entire level empty and leaving the three of us alone" stated Sherlock.
"Get out".
"It won't work this time, I know you only carry your gun on your person out of work plus this place restricts any armed weapons including knives and the occasional but weakly used pepper spray. Why is that even considered a weapon? I never found any use for it you do more damage with air freshener"."Sherlock I really don't think now's the time for that" his little partner said.
"Oh god I'm gonna be sick" I stated.
"Then have a seat" said Sherlock.
"I don't take order from you, you're not my father".
"You know that's a lie I am your father".
"Bullshit! You have never been, and you never will be my father. The only father I've ever had is (y/father's full/n)" I sneered. His eyes widened with emotion for once.
"I know that Sherlock can rub off on people the wrong way but don't you think that's a bit too far?" His partner asked.
"Too far? Ehehe too far he says? You have no idea what this man has put me through!""(Y/n) I know I wasn't the perfect dad—"
"Perfect? Oh no. There's not even a word to describe the hell you've put me through throughout the years! You never cared about me! Whenever you went off on your little drug runs to get high on coke or whatever the bloody hell you were taking, you never came back and not in any way that mattered! You just dumped me off at your parent's place. Then you send your own brother to get rid of me instead of having the decency to do it yourself. You Sherlock Holmes are a coward! You're the one who would rather inject a needle than hold your daughter after a bad dream! You're the one who knocked up a prostitute and cared even less than she did even when she had the balls to abandon me when she had the chance!"
"I tried searching for you—"
"BULLSHIT!! You—you had 13 years to find me. And all you did was just make your name the biggest thing since the Princess Diana scandal. You never cared about me so why start now? Hmm? Why try to ruin my life now when everything in my life was finally perfect?" Tears were streaming down my face even harder as I fell to my knees but before I felt the ground, I was leaning against a broad chest and felt arms wrap around me.
"I know, I know I was a complete bugger of a parent. Mycroft told us you were kidnapped and murdered and that he had already buried you, I thought I had lost any chance of ever redeeming myself to you. But as I became a detective I knew there were some things that didn't fit with his accusation. It was then I finally found out the truth of where he sent you. Miss Clavel was then warned about me and refused me any records of what happened to you so I was forced to break in and steal them and find out you were here in America. I know I can never wash away the neglect I have given you throughout your childhood but I swear to you (y/n), my darling and only baby girl, I will redeem myself to you. Even if it takes until the day I die. I want to redeem myself as your father".
Too weak and too busy weeping to even get up, I cling onto my father's suit and cried into his chest as he rocked me back and forth. The one thing I've always longed for ever since I was a child.
