#''So I’ve written Him a letter to be sent out to sea-I’m looking for a bottle to hold it in‚ hold it in''

[woolydemon]

finished one animatic and being like "oh yeah that was fun but glad to be able to move onto different non animatic stuff" but then immediately smacked in the face with mental animatic of Hold It In klapolly

#its so tempting to go for the whole song but I dont think i have enough perseverance for that #but the lyrics ... ogh i have ideas for all of them 😭😭 #i could at least do the beginning part of the song #its just PUNCHES THE WALL its so klapolly . #this one lyric at the end makes me go Ogh i Could do something with That #''So I’ve written Him a letter to be sent out to sea-I’m looking for a bottle to hold it in‚ hold it in'' #<- apollo running away to kurain partially to avoid klav and in turn confronting his feelings. :] #maybe if i cut out the middle part. But the middle has potential too 😭😭 #well if i ever pick up this idea for a project I'll keep the scope small for the start at the very least #and see how i feel after i slog through several days of just minutes worth of a vid kahdjfj #rando thoughtz

[lutiaslayton]

Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva

ＰＡＲＴ　１５

〚ＦＩＲＳＴ〛〚ＰＲＥＶ〛〚ＮＥＸＴ〛

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.

This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.

☆ Melina Whistler

Yes…

I could remember it clearly.

The unparalleled sense of fear, of entrapment and desolation, when I was sent into the body of someone else…

I looked for a place to hide, but there was nowhere to.

Everything was cold… I could hardly breathe.

I couldn’t stay here! Please, someone let me out!

I screamed desperately, but no one could hear me.

I kept pleading to someone I couldn’t see.

Please, I don’t want to stay here either. But I can’t leave. I have to stay here…

“Melina—Is that you, Melina?”

I had heard a familiar voice.

I could hear… or rather, I could feel it.

I couldn’t see her, but I knew that Janice was close by.

“Janice…?”

“Melina! This is incredible. I can’t believe you are so close to me…”

“I’m sorry, Janice! I shouldn’t be here. I’ll disappear right now… Somehow, I’ll find a way to do that!”

“No, you can’t!”

“Janice!?”

“I’ve just found you again… Do you realise how much I missed you? How much I missed my best friend while you were gone…”

“But, Janice…”

“It’s okay, Melina… I can’t let you go on like this.”

Suddenly, I had felt something shifting.

The sense of fear and desolation disappeared…

“Janice!”

Her voice was moving away.

“This isn’t just for you. This is also for me. Melina, you may not understand, but the grief and suffering of those left behind is so strong…”

I know, Janice…

I had felt Papa’s grief and pain even after I had lost my body…

“You have to understand, Melina. Losing my best friend not once, but twice, would surely break my heart…”

Before I knew it, I was slowly becoming familiar with Janice’s body, as if guided by the waves of the sea.

I had been spoiled by her heartfelt friendship…

At that moment…

The sound of slow clapping brought me back to reality.

It was Descole. The man who had used Papa’s love for me to draw him into his evil ways…

“Excellent. I did not realise that the memory copying had been successful… So congratulations, Whistler, you’ve achieved your goal.”

It was no wonder that you hadn’t noticed, Descole. Someone like you would never understand Janice’s kindness, or the nobility of sacrificing oneself in order to keep others alive.

“Oh, oh my God…”

Poor Papa… He was completely confused.

I looked straight into his eyes. Papa… I needed him to understand my feelings.

“At some point, I started to realise that this was wrong. I can’t live my life at the expense of my friend.”

I told him my honest thoughts.

“It was you who wrote to me, wasn’t it?”

Professor Layton…

I… No, we both wrote that letter. Janice’s voice had become inaudible to me, but our hearts were still communicating.

“It was the right choice to choose you, Professor. I thought you would be able to stop Papa… Just like I wanted him to stop.”

Isn’t that right, Janice?

It was just as you told me before.

“There is no puzzle that Professor Layton can’t solve, Melina.”

“I can’t stay in her body forever… But as long as this device exists, Papa will continue to copy my memories.”

“Melina…”

Papa’s eyes… They were looking at me, not at Janice.

“I had heard a lot about the Professor from Janice. She admired you so much…”

I’m sorry, Janice… I said it.

As soon as you gave me your life, I had realised how much the professor meant to you…

When I first met him on the Crown Petone, I made my most cherished memories. The times when he solved puzzles… That time when we were talking on the beach… That time when we were riding that makeshift helicopter that we had built… I was never alone.

Papa’s voice was trembling.

“Melina, I… This was all for you…”

“Thank you, Papa… I appreciate how you feel. But, please… These horrendous things have to stop now.”

“I just couldn’t accept a life without my beloved daughter… So I…”

At that moment— The whole room was struck by a tremendous quake.

“Professor, the ceiling!”

With a roar, the ceiling above us was split in two, as we all stood under it in stunned shock.

Then Descole took my arm.

“Melina!”

In a flash, Descole ran up the stairs leading to the Detragan and set me down.

A pack of wolves popped out and surrounded everyone. They all let out a terrifying howl then stood menacingly, ready to pounce on anyone at any moment.

“What are you doing, Descole!?”

“I needed Melina’s memories to achieve my true goal,” he replied coldly, standing right next to me.

“Your true goal…?” Papa asked in confusion.

I was with him on this one… I had no idea what this was about either. What could he possibly need my memories for? What could that mean?

Descole twirled his cloak and pointed to the ceiling.

“The resurrection of Ambrosia!”

The ceiling was painted with the Ambrosian crest… The Kingdom of Immortality.

“It all started when I discovered their coat of arms in its entirety…”

Descole turned to the professor and sent him a condescending look.

“Layton, what do you think these symbols mean?”

The coat of arms had a design reminiscent of a king and queen, surrounded by a vast number of lines, dots and jagged patterns…

The professor soon gasped in realisation. “…It’s a music sheet!”

“Correct. A music sheet, written in the Ambrosian way.”

Descole walked over to the Detragan and reached for a sheet music.

“In other words, the coat of arms is inscribed with the first key required to open the door to Ambrosia: a song that could be called ‘A Song of the Stars.’”

“A ‘Song of the Stars’…!?” Luke repeated incredulously.

“The second key is you, Melina.”

I could not believe my ears. “Me… the second key?”

The resurrection of Ambrosia, keys to open a door… I did not understand.

“The first key alone was not enough to revive Ambrosia. This was when I realised that the crest also hinted at the existence of a second key…”

The professor instantly resonated. “The ‘Song of the Sea’!”

Descole slowly took my hand with an icy smile. His grip was just as cold as his face.

“The stars, and the sea. When the two melodies are combined, Ambrosia will be revived.”

“I didn’t realise… that he was after the kingdom itself,” Papa slowly shook his head in shame.

“Alas, by the time the puzzle of the crest had been solved… The only person who had an accurate memory of the second key could no longer sing…”

So that was what this was all about.

The ‘Song of the Sea’… It was the song that the sea around Ambrosia had taught me.

Ever since we had moved to this island so I could recuperate from my illness, I had spent every day gazing out at it. Walking along the beach, or standing on my balcony, with the feeling of the sea breeze embracing me…

It wasn’t long before I had become aware of the melody that the sea was bringing me.

The wind, blowing past the reefs jutting out from the shore, would sing the same song to me every day. The waves breaking onto the shore would add to the music, creating a pleasant harmony, like a small ensemble.

Soon, I had unconsciously began to hum that very beautiful and somewhat nostalgic melody. When the sea and the song were joined together, it had given me a sense of heartfelt sincerity. It was soothing… and it made me happy, as I felt surrounded by a shower of invisible music.

Descole put his hand on one of the Detragan’s levers.

“Even though some memories were left behind… I wanted a perfect copy, more than Whistler did!”

He pulled the lever. Immediately after, the staircase exploded and bright lights flashed on the wall.

The smoke from the explosion blocked my view.

　⇚　　　　　　　⇛

#professor layton #layton's book club #melina whistler #janice quatlane #oswald whistler #jean descole #hershel layton #eternal diva #eternal diva novel #translation #professor layton and the eternal diva #ayo this part was so WILD #This is why I'm transcribing this stuff. Japanese version cleared up SO many questions that the localisations brushed off. #like how the English & French dubs make it sound like all three songs were written on the Ambrosian seal #while in fact the original version explains that only the song of the stars (+ sun) + a drawing of the sea (+ sun) are there. #So basically it seems like we can deduce here a full timeline of how things went! #Step 1: Des steps foot on Ambrosia and discovers the first known instance of the complete crest. #Step 2: He figures out the Song of the Stars from the music sheet on the crest #and likely deduces that it's the key to reviving Ambrosia. #Step 3: He plays the song of the stars and it doesn't work. He looks at the crest again and sees the drawing of the sea. #He deduces that there is another key related to the sea. Somehow he figures out that there is only one person in the world who knows it. #(I have a hypothesis about the why and how but I'll leave that for later since this hypothesis lacks solid evidence.) #Step 4: Des figures out (somehow) that this “one person in the whole world” is Melina. #Step 5: Melina is sick so he uses that as an excuse to have the Whistlers move to Ambrosia and live inside the black castle he built. #His excuse for bringing them there is that the ocean breeze will do some good to her health. #Step 6: Melina is healthy enough to walk on the shore a few times and she notices that the sea sings to her. She learns the song of the sea #Unfortunately she is already too sick to sing it properly so Descole can't use her. And soon after that she dies. #Step 7: Des and Whistler had been prepared for that eventuality and copied her memories with the Detragan. So they just need a host for her #Des only was able to get his hands on the song of the sea when Melina learned it. And she never wrote it down before dying. #See the music sheet that Layton plays to Nina? It's the song of the sea. Sure. But it's incomplete. It only has the first half.

[justreadertings]

Happy first day of Rowaelin Month! I’m so excited to participate this year, you have no. idea. Let me just say, this, more than anything I’ve ever posted, is my biggest love letter to writing and to you guys. The 40s time era is extremely personal to me, and when I write it, I hope you know my whole heart is in it. I hope you enjoy some of the only pure fluff you’re ever gonna get from me. As always, much, much love- Magee

Based on Julie London’s I’m Glad There Is You

TW: Mentions of nightmares, brief mention of war

Carolina, 1948

Aelin’s fingers shook slightly as she lowered the arm of the record player onto the record. She had flicked on a lamp, and lit a candle in their living room. Her neighbor, Elide, had lent her a pan to cook dinner with, and the warmth of the oven seeped through her shaking frame. 

She had to breathe in and out, hand on her stomach, to remind herself that everything was just so. Aelin stood in the middle of the living room, watching the front door, the walls of her and her husband’s quaint home close together. Her heart ached at the memory of the day she and Rowan had put up the floral wallpaper. 

Kingsflame, he had whispered in her ear, for you, Fireheart. She had turned around in his strong arms, bringing his mouth to her’s. She had thanked him thoroughly, their happiness tinging the few pieces of furniture they’d had. 

Rowan had wasted no time, had promised to marry her at eighteen and got on one knee four days after her own eighteenth birthday. They’d bought this house with stars in their eyes, with the little inheritance money she’d been given by her parents after their too quick death. Her small town had been so kind to her those months she spent living with her cousin, offering her a job at the school, forgoing some of the classes she’d promised to take to get there herself. 

So tragic, they had whispered. Rowan never liked it when they spoke about her, but she didn’t mind too much. She knew it was all from a good place. Especially when Rowan had been drafted, only a year into their marriage. 

She’s only nineteen, all on her own. Let’s hope they have children soon, to keep her company. Such a bright girl, so sad. Let’s pray he comes home.

Even now, so many years later, she couldn’t remember those days when she would hear nothing, would tune into the radio to hear what was happening in Europe. Aelin had asked him, where will you be going? And he said: everywhere.

She died a little, that day he left. She had clutched the picture of their quiet ceremony and sobbed, her in her mother’s simple, pearly white dress, Rowan in the suit he’d taken her to prom in. Aelin hadn’t wanted to go to church in the weeks after, knowing every time she sat in the pews, she’d look up to see the place where they’d kissed and promised each other to whatever end. 

It was their saying, after all the tragedy and death they’d seen in their short lives, that they would stick together, through whatever end. He had said it to her after her parents died. She had said it to him when his aunt had gone to prison. He whispered it to her when they’d sat in the hospital, her good friend Nehemia losing the battle with a long time illness. She’d written it in every letter she sent, hoping that her eternal love for him would be able to cross seas. 

Now, she waited again, hoping he would be home soon. Lorcan, Elide’s husband, had come home a week ago. A week. And yet her Rowan was still gone. He’d been called seven weeks ago to rebuild in Europe again, moving around and helping people. This was the second time in his three years back from the front lines that he’d been called.

It seemed time was never on their side, because not two weeks into this trip, she had fallen terribly ill. He had gone ballistic in his letters, promising that if anything happened to her without her there, the war would look like a game compared to what he’d do. She’s only written him back, chastising him, telling him that the joke was not funny. He was too protective for his own good. Even before he’d been called for duty.

Men had always been very forthcoming in their advances towards her. She knew she should be more modest, but the leering since childhood had let her know early on that she was beautiful. Her golden ringlets, pretty curves, and what Rowan called her glow- it didn’t exactly lead her to an anonymous lifestyle. Rowan had actually fought a man once, for grabbing her on their way to the theaters. And when he came home… her husband not only had his fair share of her temper, but he also had the strength to be lethal. Her moon eyed Rowan had come back a warrior. And a warrior she’d sure he’d be once he found out the news.

Right. Her news. Anxiety flared in her stomach, and she pressed her pretty pearl ring to her belly. Her red skirt brushed her calves, and her ribbed shirt tucked into it, pressing even more. She’d swept her hair up, and applied a red lip, reminiscent of their first anniversary. By that point, they’d already known he was leaving, so they’d spent the next few weeks celebrating. Much of it was spent in bed, but they’d also gone by the docks for morning picnics and midnight dances. 

Rowan and Aelin were nothing if not sentimental. The docks were their home away from Orynth Ave. 

She puttered around the house fluffing pillows, and then her own hair. Aelin knew she looked a bit tired, but that was something he would just have to get used to. Gods, she was ready for him to be home. Visions of him bursting through the door to plant a million kisses onto her lips invaded her mind. She wasn’t sure if it was nausea, a hot flash, or just her mind, but her body flooded with heat. 

The record stopped, and she flipped it. She’d been standing, waiting, longer than she thought. A song came on, and Aelin could not resist putting a hand on her heart and swaying to the tune. The words made her ache for him.

In this world of ordinary people

Extraordinary people

I'm glad there is you

She pressed her lips into a tight smile, the song making its way into her body, settling her anxieties just a bit. 

In this world of overrated pleasures

And underrated treasures

I’m glad there is you

She was so lost in the song, she hardly heard the lock click on the front door. Hardly heard anything until a bag thumped on their wood floors. 

Aelin turned in an instant, and seeing him there, relief rushed through her. Tears sprang to her eyes. It’d been too damn long since that tired smile, since those green eyes of his were with her. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispered. Fondness filled his eyes. 

She launched herself at her husband, and he recoiled from the contact before wrapping his strong arms around her. Aelin was enveloped with his pine and snow scent, and she pressed her face close to his chest. 

Her anxieties drained away, and the world was right again. It was just her and Rowan, exactly as they were the night they had met, only sixteen. They had spent the night at a school function, a large boat rented for the dance. But they had only had eyes for each other, her in a tiny velvet blue thing that still hung in her closet today. They had spent the night dancing around each other, making each other laugh even as they disgreed about nearly everything. 

“Let me get you something sweet,” she had said to him, a smile on her brightly colored lips. 

“I don’t do sweet things,” he had replied. She had found that outrageous, then. But she found it to be a lie hours later, when they had stepped off the boat he had asked her to dance to the sound of the far off music and waves, down on the docks. The boats and stars and night sky had watched them hold each other and promise, right then and there, to never let go. 

Since then, she had been smitten with his perfect broodiness. Their hug had turned into swaying, and just like that, they were sixteen again.

I live to love I love to live

With you beside me

Aelin’s face scratched against the stark material of his green uniform, but she paid it no mind as his hands held her waist, as his breath coaxed her ear.

“Did you miss me, Fireheart?” 

She held his neck closer, clinging to him. “More than you know.” He smiled against her cheek. They stayed like that for a long time, the song winding around them, peace encompassing her once more.

Even if she knew he had just been sent as aid, to help rebuild, nightmares had plagued her for weeks. Neither of them slept well unless they were tangled around each other. She knew he could use a home cooked meal, a night of her holding him. The first time he had come home, he’d been silent for days, stoic and intense. He had only confided in her once, those early weeks, after he had pushed off her advances. Rowan had told her that he had done things he wasn’t proud of, that he couldn’t say it all, and he did not feel worthy of holding her.

She told him if she wanted a perfect man, she would not have married a man who only drank black coffee. It was the first genuine smile she’d seen from him. They had spent a long, long while healing. Loneliness had crept up on her in his absence, and he had to coax her into spilling her own truths in his return. Her cousin had moved after her wedding. For those months Rowan was gone, Aelin did not confide in anyone but her diary. 

When they were learning how to be them again, they would swap journals at night, sit in bed and read until one or both of their words were too sad, and they needed to hold each other again to feel alright again.  She and Rowan took turns having nightmares, and she flinch-proofed their home from any sudden loud noises. 

It was the same thing she’d done this week, waiting for his return. And now, everything soft, she was ready to tell him the other type of preparation they’d have in store soon. 

Aelin picked her head up from his chest, bringing his face down to hers for a soft, slow kiss. Fire burned down her body, an adoration for him so strong she could barely stand it. 

He pressed their foreheads together, breathing her in. Her chest beat loud enough in her ears, she was sure he could tell. Sure enough, his forehead creased, and he studied her face before leaning down to press a kiss to her savage, wild heart.

“Why are you so nervous, Fireheart?”

She studied his face, the harsh lines of it, only seeing her moon-eyed sixteen year old first love. Only love. And it brought her enough comfort to calm her nervous heart.

This role so new I'll muddle through

With you to guide me

“Rowan,” she whispered. But her nerves got the better of her, and she instead told him, “I made dinner.”

His expression changed, and he laughed, rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms. It was fall, and she was sure he was going to fuss over her warmth. “Is that why you’re so nervous? Dinner.”

She huffed a laugh onto his chest. But he took her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, and kissed her. They lingered, as if they were so inherently connected that pulling away would be more troublesome than staying together. 

But his love gave her courage. He knew her too well.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered onto his lips. 

His eyes widened, and he took a step back, looking at her fully. Her heart beat up again, so loud, even through the peaceful silence of their home. He just… looked at her.

“Rowan?”

He blinked and blinked those green eyes she spent weeks imagining on a newborn.

“Rowan?”

Finally, he released a breath, his statue breaking. She saw tears in his eyes. “Are you serious?” Aelin pressed a hand to her mouth, to overcome to speak. She only nodded. His voice broke, “Aelin.” 

Rowan kissed her, kissed her hard and left her breathless before kneeling down to press his wet face to her stomach. “Baby, baby, baby,” he worshiped. 

Tears came to her own eyes, as her fingers ran though his cropped hair. She still couldn’t bring herself to speak. It was all working out like it was meant to, all the pain and separation they’d been a part of leading to this.

In this world where many many play at love

But hardly any stay in love

I’m glad there is you

Rowan rose to his feet, hugging her to him. “I love you, Aelin.”

She closed her arms around him, so grateful that the two- that the three- of them were all home, safe. That this is where they would stay. 

“I love you, Rowan. To whatever end.”

He pressed a heavy kiss to her lips, her cheeks straining from her smile. They swayed again, caught up in each other and the music and the prospect of their family.

“To whatever end, Fireheart.”

More than ever

I’m glad there is you 

 Taglist: @leiawritesstories​ @tomtenadia​ @fireheart-violet​ @backtobl4ck​ @morganofthewildfire​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @aelinchocolatelover​ @thegreyj​ @foughtconquered​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @booklover242​ @stardelia​ @numbers-colors-fashion​ @bookcide​

#Rowaelin month #rowanelin #tog #throne of glass #tog fanfiction #rowaelin fanfiction #sjm #sjm fanfiction

[day0walkersdrafts]

Item select —> Letter

[A bundle of inexpensive parchment, tidily pressed, tied off with brown twine. Smells faintly of the sea. Fingerprint marks indicate where it’s been read and reread.]

Benji! [This is written larger than the rest of the neat, careful script]

I have found a quiet place inside the crypt, which means that I have found a moment to write to you. We’ve made camp alongside a sarcophagus that we’ve not been able to open—cannot help but judge the poor rogue (Lyana) doing her thief kitting, because Lark could probably get this done with his eyes closed.

Oh, right, you’re probably reading this and wondering where I’ve landed myself now. I’ve taken a contract to eliminate some undead (paladin duties, as you know, the code, oath, all that) with a new group of adventurers. And speaking of judging—Benji. Actually, I will get to the cleric in a moment.

Let me thank you instead for the recipe you sent for that tincture! You know how fucking rotten I am at potions and the like. You made it rather easy, though. Reading the instructions sort of felt like you were over my shoulder, telling me what to do. Admittedly, miss that a bit!

[an ink blot has stained part of the letter here, a smudged fingerprint]

Anyway, I need you to not be angry at what I’ll be writing next. Stop being preemptively angry just by that as well. I can picture you right now, with so much ease. Get that knot in your brow and tilt to your mouth. Might show off a cute fang with a curled lip. Well, the thing is, the crypt is dank and molded and I’ve definitely gotten a cold. Which, actually, you might be laughing at this part. Reading me talk about a cold (likely cramped up inside a tree, aren’t you? Half folded in on yourself, in weird ways. Never could sit right), probably a bit funny.

I guess you’ll be more annoyed that I haven’t spoken up about it. Or tried to ask our Cleric for some assistance. And I could heal myself probably (paladin!) but I don’t want him to see me doing it. Right, I can also imagine you rolling your eyes at me—like you aren’t just as stubborn. I just don’t like him, Benji. And I can’t let him win. He can’t know I’m suffering a common cold from dusty, moist crypts. One Healing Word on myself and he’ll see the blue flash and go ‘Aha! We should not have hired this paladin!’

Which, maybe is true…

Lyana, the rogue who cannot get the sarcophagus open (really easy work, Benji, promise, doesn’t look like alchemy, know what I mean?) is lovely really. Very sweet. I think she disikes me. Like, a lot, Benji. Tried to explain that I should hold the map of the place and she laughed at me. ‘Knights don’t hold maps’. Well. Told her, ‘I’m not a knight. I’m a paladin. And I should hold the map’.

I got a look at it, at least before we went in. So, you know me, memorized it pretty easy. Except, when I told her—and the fucking cleric—where to turn, they went the opposite way. We’re all stuck in this little crypt until someone starts listening to me. Or I lose it and kick the coffin over, wake up whatever’s inside and then maybe they will have use of me. Other than holding torches.

I think they hired me because I’m tall, Benji.

Made me miss [the sentence ends abruptly and the writer seems to pick up on a new page, as if the thought was interrupted or abandoned]

Hope you’re doing well, of course! Bet you hate when I get a long winded one out like this, huh? I traded some rings for parchment from a trader and he laughed at me over it, but I have to say. The rings probably were worth more, but getting to write to you is still probably the only thing keeping me sane on some of these journeys. I’m a bit tired of them. Of it, all, really.

I miss the fishing village. Missing a lot lately [another ink blot and furious smudges]

I’ll be waking up the undead in a minute. By the time this letter reaches you, I’ll have hopefully found a different party to travel with. Might try and find Lark again…

Anyway!

Your friend for as long as you’ll have me and my letters,

Xavier

[There is a crude, poorly drawn dog at the bottom of the last page. The words ‘bark bark’ are written next to it, perhaps to indicate that it is a dog, as the writer is not gifted with artistic talent.]

Item select —> Letter

[This single letter has a decisive, near violent but misaligned fold through the middle of it; as though the recipient read it once and tucked it away with haste.]

Benji, [the script is scratchy and messy and terribly lazy looking]

How are you, my fiendish friend? I’m writing you partially because I found out that you have been corresponding with a paladin we’re both acquaintances with; and yet I have never once received a letter from you. My heart is broken beyond repair. Hopefully you know how your cruelty has affected me. I wait, on a chaise lounge, tuning my violin and waiting for your reply.

[There’s a large, dramatic space.]

Actually, I am writing to you for a reason, not just to be a proper fucking annoyance. Though, you and I know, fond of that. Especially to you—but I’d like for you to be sitting for the next part of this letter.

When Xavier told me he’d been in regular correspondence with you, I felt I should be the one to write to let you know—once again, please be seated—that he was injured recently. Don’t get hasty, as he’s currently healing in a sick bed. Nice and well taken care of by a busty dwarf cleric that seems absolutely fond of the red head. Never seen someone lean over a man so frequently to check a fever.

Well, thought you should know! I’ll disclose the location in the way I always do when sending a secret through courier. I’m sure the man would like to see you. Groaned your name once or twice when they were straightening out those ribs to fix them.

You owe me, by the way.

Charmed as always,

Ben the Bard

#xavier #benji #xavier x benji #bg3 au #i wish i was kidding of course we're doing a baldurs gate au

[desolateice]

Quick links

In-progress fics:

Muffuletta 

For the start of the All Valley Skills Challenge’s first prompt “Back to School” I decided to dig out two drabbles I did for the All-Valley 100 and expand upon them. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while but couldn’t find the time. What is it? Set somewhere during TKK3, Johnny and the cobras are starting college. Johnny, overwhelmed by it all and bored because Sid and his mom put him in a studio instead of in the dorms, goes to his first class a little drunk. He doesn’t pay attention to the assignment which is to write a letter, and ends up writing to Daniel only to find out in the next class that the teacher sent his letter. What is a muffuletta? It’s a sandwich! While researching for the fic (I’ve sent the guys to UCLA) I tried finding traditions and possibly traditional UCLA food. What I ended up finding was that UCLA used to (possibly still does in some form) have a huge Mardis Gras event every year. So I looked up New Orleans popular foods for Mardis Gras and saw that the muffuletta had Italian origins and couldn’t pass that up. It’s starts with Sicilian bread, specifically a Sicilian sesame bread and then the sandwichi is filled with olive-salad (celery, carrot, cauliflower, olives (of course), giardiniera (italian relish), oragano, garlic, and olive oil), salami, ham, provolone cheese, swiss cheese, and mortadella (a type of Italian sausage). Where am I? Around chapter 4. I’m doing research for UCLA traditions and things for the guys to do around campus. I don’t know how much or how quickly I’ll get this done due to other fandom events I want to participate in like the Reverse Bang and CKHalloween, both of which are going to make my October hectic. First Chapter

Most Recent Chapter

Hardboiled Gunpowder Tea

A Root Beer Floats and Green Tea alternative route. This one is Tommy/Johnny. However you do not need to have read the other fics to read this one.

What is it?  Set pre-the karate kid, Kreese has gone missing, the boys are told he’s dead, but mystery loving Tommy thinks something is wrong and is on the case. What is Hardboiled Gunpowder Tea? Hardboiled is a term, a sub genre, in mystery novels, it’s usually for a detective unphased by violence and devoid of sentimentality. It’s also used for boiling, i.e. an egg. Gunpowder tea is a type of tea, specifically a green tea that’s been rolled into little pellets, sometimes called pearl tea, but generally in English called gunpowder due to the resemblance. Where am I? Research mode. I’ve written three chapters and know about where I want to go on the romantic side of things, but I want to work on the ~mystery~ and plot. What am I using for research? I’ve got a pile of mystery novels on my desk I need to read. 🤣 First Chapter Most recent chapter

Completed fics under the read more

Completed fics:

Umibudo 🧜‍♂️ Complete 🍍

Chozen won my 2023 mer-may poll. E rated Johnny/Chozen set after the All-Valley at the end of TKK1 beginning of TKK2 and beyond. Note it earns it’s E rating. What is it? Set right after the All-Valley Johnny struggles with everything that has happened and while feeling sorry for himself ends up fishing a guy out of the sea, not realizing he fished out a merman. He has a one night stand (er middle of the afternoon stand???) to distract himself from everything. Chozen is on a mission to find Mr. Miyagi in a desperate attempt to save everything he cares about on the island, while struggling with his instincts.

What is Umibudo? A type of seaweed that looks like a bunch of little grapes, also known as sea grapes. First Chapter

Final Chapter

Moodboard by ZappedbyZabka

White chocolate coconut vanilla latte ☕ Complete 🍵

M rated Dutch/Johnny set from before TKK through TKK3.

What is it? A coffee shop AU where Dutch is working at coffee shop in order to pay for his cobra kai lessons and after the events of TKK and the start of TKK2 Johnny starts working there too. What is a white chocolate coconut vanilla latte? It’s a drink offered by an USA coffee shop chain that’s name inspired this fic, however that’s the description of the drink, the actual drink is called something like white angel and I don’t think it’s necessarily a latte. (I’ve never been 😅) But every time this cafe is mentioned I think of Dutch and I think he owns a coffee shop. So thus this fic was created.

First chapter

Last chapter

Easter egg: almost all of the chapter titles have to deal with coffee and the final chapter is a nod to the cafe that inspired the fic.

Puppy Chow 🐶 Complete 🌕

For the Cobra Kai Halloween 2023 prompt: mad scientist. T rated Lawrusso (It was originally M, but I bumped it down to T) What is it? John Kreese spends his time leading up to the All Valley digging through Dynatox old experiments before settling on one to put in a drink to give Johnny that he thinks will ensure victory. It doesn’t seem to work. Johnny (in the Cobra Kai time) is losing track of time, keeps waking up in strange places and has ever since he lost the All Valley. He fears what he’s been doing, thinks he’s gotten black out drunk each time, but in actuality is a werewolf. What is puppy chow? Puppy chow was like the best snack for people to make and bring to school when I was in like elementary school. It’s a box of chex mix cereal, 2 cups of semi-sweet chocolate chips, 3/4 cup of peanut butter (smooth), 1/3 cup of butter, and powdered sugar. Essentially everything gets melted, mixed and tossed in powdered sugar. It actually goes by a lot of names but where I grew up this is what it was called. You can read more about it and how it got it’s name here. First Chapter Final Chapter

Candied Apples 🍬🍎 Complete 🗡🎣

For the Cobra Kai Halloween 2023 prompt: witches M rated Lawrusso (was originally T but I bumped it up to M) What is it? A sort of high fantasy quest AU. In this world everyone is given a quest. Generally in the valley where Daniel lives it’s something simple that helps determine one’s future job, like go get fish for the local duke. But he gets a very important quest, only part of it’s gabled. He decides the quest must be to find an unhappy princess and make her happy, so he leaves his town to go find an unhappy princess and is joined by Johnny who seems to be a rich gentleman or night who wants to travel with him. However he keeps talking to witches which is a huge red flag to Daniel. Johnny’s on his own quest and having an awful time. What is a candied apple? It’s generally a whole apple dipped in a sugar glaze that hardens or caramel, it’s kinda sticky and difficult to eat, but if you can cut it up it’s easier to enjoy. I was thinking of witches and snow white when trying to name this and that poisoned apple from the film. First Chapter Final Chapter

Amaretti🎄🎅Complete 💝💘

Pitch hit for the Cobra Kai Secret Santa for ohnoitsthebat E rated Lawrusso What is it? Set in the 90′s when Mr. Miyagi is gone to Boston. Mr. Miyagi tells Daniel he should make it a holiday. Holidays are the only times he sees Johnny, the two of them and the cobras generally meet up at Ali’s for her holiday parties. Johnny’s picked up a job at a local craft store so the two end up scrapbooking and thinking back over the years and realize just how much they mean to each other. What’s an amaretti? An italian cookie using almond flour First Chapter

Final Chapter

Dark ‘n’ stormy 🥂🌩 Complete 🎃🍕

For the All Valley Skills Challenge Trick or Treat prompt E rated Lawrusso What is it? Johnny decorates the dojo for Halloween and Daniel complains that Johnny got everyone a treat but him, so Johnny asks him what he wants. Ends up going through a bunch of Halloween costumes Daniel bought specifically for Johnny while drunk shopping online. Johnny thinks he’s being tricked but they end up spending Halloween together, bonding over old Halloween traditions they don’t have any more and missing them and Johnny learns the costumes are truly a treat for Daniel. What’s a Dark ‘n’ stormy? Alcoholic drink: rum, ginger beer, lime First Chapter Final Chapter

Camp Stinging Nettles⛺🥾 Complete 🔪💖

For the Cobra Kai Halloween 2023 prompt: serial Killers

E rated omegaverse Lawrusso

What is it? A serial killer at camp atmosphere. Set in a wonky time frame around college after TKK3 and then a time skip a couple years later.

Johnny is a camp counselor at Camp Stinging Nettles and has been every since he could be. Before that he was a camper. He likes the kids but hates the counselors because they harass him for being an omega.

This summer Daniel LaRusso has decided to join the team as the camp chef. He’s surprised to see Johnny and even more surprised to find out how awful the counselors are. As time goes on, all the trauma and angry from everything that’s happened to him causes him to snap.

Major trigger warnings for this. I made the camp counselors OC’s so I wouldn’t like kill off any friends, but Daniel does kill people and there’s highly dubious consent that doesn’t seem like there is any consent until you get to the other pov. He does, in much later chapters kill of characters from canon but off screen and well it’s sort of a good for him type of thing. So just, tread carefully. Also because it’s omegaverse so like everything that goes with that.

What are stinging nettles? Stinging nettles are an edible plant. It can be eaten in a lot of different dishes and is relatively healthy however it does also sting if not handled carefully.

First chapter

Final Chapter

Bûche de Noël 🎅🎄Completed⛄🩰

Ships: Lawrusso, Shannon/Kumiko, Chozen/Dutch, Carmen/Amanda What is it? Multi ship Secret Santa rated T for Raphiday. Amanda visits her cousin in the new town she moved to for the holidays, Mistletoe Falls where she falls in love and breaks things off with her big city LA boyfriend. Only, said boyfriend comes to visit and try and win her back only to realize he doesn’t have a chance and every available bachelor in town might just be flirting with him. Staring: Amanda: the new at risk teen helper quick to punch out the lights of anyone who flirts with her girl though a bit of a klutz Carmen: local nurse Jessica: Happy people are coming to visit and working in the local rock climbing shop Dutch: the local bartender Kumiko: in charge of the ballet and the yearly performance of the Nutcracker Chozen: the town baker and multi-year reigning champion of the local Bûche de Noël contest. Terry Silver: local lumberjack and owner of the local lodge and christmas tree farm with his business partner. Shannon: visiting town with her grieving boyfriend and instantly swept off her feet and off to follow her dreams Johnny: Grieving son who hates Mistletoe Falls despite his family’s legacy. Daniel: A guy trying to solve random mysteries in town and see if he can win back his girlfriend or maybe find love somewhere else unexpected. I tried to fit in as many Hallmark holiday movie tropes in there as possible. What is a Bûche de Noël? It’s a French roll cake, usually like a angle food or sponge cake with a filling of whipped cream or icing covered in more icing and things to make it look like a log or a tree branch and generally it’s a Christmas thing. First Chapter Last Chapter

bagel and lox for me and a maple bar for you Completed

A oneshot for the CK Reverse bang for this art by GJ draws. What is it? An E rated Lawrusso oneshot. Set during Cobra Kai, sometime after the last season. Daniel is teaching his students waiting for Johnny to arrive, and he doesn’t, but then he does, but it’s not his Johnny. He slowly learns that each day he gets a new Johnny but it’s not his and he eventually has to find and help rescue his Johnny and get the other Johnny’s home to their own universe. Background and very minor Cobra Husbands.

Gelato Completed

A oneshot for the CK Reverse Bang for this art by boyswhomaybewatchedsunsets

What is it? A T rated oneshot set in a summer after the All Valley but waaayyyy before Cobra Kai. Daniel is working at his family’s villa in Italy and Sid, Laura and Johnny stay there. Arguably Lawrusso, arguably Gen.

Cinnamon French Toast Completed

A oneshot for the CK Reverse Bang for this art by Lego Cobra Kai What is it? A oneshot about grief and comfort. Set during Cobra Kai. Miguel asks Daniel to check up on Johnny because it’s the anniversary of Johnny’s mothers death so he show’s up to comfort him. Arguably Lawrusso, arguably gen, rated T.

Earl Gray ☕🕺Completed🐝🦚

 A Root Beer Floats and Green tea alternative route. This one is Dutch/Johnny. You don’t need to read the other fics to read this one. What is it? Set pre-The Karate Kid through The Karate Kid 1. Dutch’s parents continue to pressure him about joining the Season, a fancy upper class time of parties and balls, however they keep trying to set him up with girls. He doesn’t want to go. So he concocts a plan, if Johnny pretends to be his boyfriend his parents will have to rethink everything. Fake Dating AU What is Earl Gray? A type of black tea flavored with the oil of a bergamot rind, (a citrus similar to an orange). First Chapter Final Chapter Easter Egg: Each chapter title is a fairy tale or folk tale inspired by the chapter, mostly princesses. See final chapter notes for the list.

A Feast for Fools 🧘‍♂️🍷 Completed 💕

What is it? A what if silverlaw (Terry Silver/Johnny Lawrence) CK fic. Terry Silver finds out about Cobra Kai immediately in season 1 and goes undercover as a yoga instructor and ends up falling for him. Johnny Lawrence gets to meet a badass who can do high kicks, learns yoga and meditation, questions the Cobra Kai creed early, shows off his competence, gets support, love and care from someone who didn’t know him before.

First Chapter

Final Chapter

Playlist

Wine Dark Night 🍷🌃 Complete (One shot) 🌕🍷

What is it? General one shot fic focused on the Cobras, specifically Bobby. After watching Night Screams 1987 (all the trigger warnings, it’s a slasher horror film) because of a meme and because it stars Ron Thomas who plays Bobby I was challenged to write an AU. So I did. This fic completely spoils Night Screams 1987 and has a pretty intense opening. However rather than a full AU this is more of a character study of Bobby Brown after what happens after the tournament in The Karate Kid and the rest of the fic is angst and hurt/comfort. Want something a little dark for Halloween go for this one. Especially if you want a serial killer AU but don’t want anyone to actually die.

Cherry Cordial 🍒🍫 Complete 🍫🍒

What is it? Lawrusso fic for the CK Halloween Open Season prompt that is late. Combination and expansion of two drabbles. Daniel attempting a potion to befriend Johnny (tw for sneaking a potion into Johnny’s drink) and then freaking out thinking he accidentally hit Johnny with a love potion coupled with the Johnny finding out what kind of witch he is and learning he’s a love witch drabble. Essentially they both think the other is in love with them.

What is a cherry cordial? A cherry cordial is a type of chocolate candy. It consists of a cherry in a cherry liqueur or other type of liqueur (they are generally alcoholic candies) dipped in chocolate.

First Chapter

Final Chapter Extra Content: moodboard by ZappedbyZabka

Conversation Hearts  💕💗 Complete (Collection of stories) 💝💘

What is it? A collection of short stories varying in rating and ship from T to E. Johnny is in each of them, the majority of it is Johnny/Daniel but there is a Johnny/Lyle, Johnny/Chozen and one Daniel/Johnny/Chozen. Some are set in The Karate Kid era, some are set in Cobra Kai, some in the weird in-between time. One’s a science fiction AU, one is a mob AU. For a full list check out either here or the first chapter which is an index and breakdown. Essentially I wanted to do a prompt list and sent out a request for prompts then worked on them as short stories for a Valentine’s Day event. What are Conversation Hearts? Candies that have been around since 1847, made of corn syrup, sugar, gelatin and food coloring. They’re little pastel colored hearts that are a bit chalky but then have flirty messages on them. Because each one has it’s own saying on it and is a bit different then the other I thought it’d make a good title for a collection of short stories. Index chapter

Buku Buku Cha ☁🍵 Complete 🌻🌸

What is it? Chozen/Johnny fic where Johnny finds himself in Okinawa with amnesia and a lot of injuries and unsure where he is or who he is let alone what happened or if he even wants to know. Set between TKK1 and TKK2. It’s a Root Beer Floats and Green Tea alternate universe. But reading RBF&GT will be unnecessary.

What is buku buku cha? Cha means tea. Buku buku cha, or buku buku tea is a traditional type of tea found in Okinawa. While Japan has matcha tea ceremonies Okinawa had and is revitalizing its buku buku cha ceremonies. While the specific tea might change it is made with jasmine tea, rice (white or roasted) and water. Then a big whisk is used to whisk the tea into a mountain of foam that floats atop the tea. It is impossible to drink this tea without getting some foam or bubbles on your nose. The name translates to tea of happiness and was used during-- in the Ryukyu Kingdom (Okinawa pre-Japan occupation)-- to welcome envoys. It was nearly lost during World War 2 due to the scarcity of rice and a lot of the tools used which were made of wood being burned.

First Chapter

Final Chapter

Playlist

Inspired Art Art by ririririii-i

Wisteria Sherbert   💐 🍨 Complete  🐺 🎅

What is it? Lawrusso fic for CK Secret santa. Note this fic is rated E, heed the tags. Set during Cobra Kai, though the time line is a little wonky. It’s an a/b/o or omega universe where Johnny is an omega but hiding it and working for a company that places him as a nanny in the LaRusso household. There are some hints of darker elements, hospitals, debt and a boss/employee relationship. This is also slow burn so you’ve got to make your way through all the plot set up to get to the smut.

What is Wisteria Sherbert? Parts of wisteria is edible, it’s that purple plant hanging up outside the LaRusso home in Cobra Kai. Other parts are poisonous, so I’m not going to give you a recipe for this one even though I did in fact find one.

The Wisteria is also considered a romantic flower with a meanings of luck and a "devotion that transcends death". Between it's sweet romantic side and poisonous danger it felt a fitting plant and title for this fic. Sherbert is a type of dessert made with mostly fruit juice and sugar but also sometimes egg whites and milk. Sometimes gelatin.

First Chapter

Final Chapter

Playlist Cut scenes and rewrites Cut scene around chapter 21 Cut and rewritten around chapter 28/29

Semifreddo 🧊Complete👻

What is it? Lawrusso fic for the CK Halloween Environment of Fear prompt. Will definitely not be done in time. Set prior to the karate kid films Sid sends Johnny to a distant relatives house in the Hamptons to clean it all up after the owners passing and Johnny finds that he’s not alone in the house. While this is a ghost story and features a Ghost! Daniel, there is no character death and will be a happy ending.

What is Semifreddo? Semifreddo translates to “half frozen or half cold” in Italian. It is a dessert found somewhere between the realm of ice cream and mousse.

First Chapter

Final Chapter

Snake Whisky 🐍Complete🐍

What is it? Lawrusso fic for the CKHalloween Monsterous transformations prompt. Note this fic has some darker elements to it and there will be an explanation of what snake whisky is and how it’s made. TW for nightmarish animal abuse.

Johnny is a shapeshifter and turns into a King Cobra determined to keep Daniel safe.

What is Snake Whisky? Snake Whisky is an alcoholic beverage infused with a snake. It can be found in many different countries and is considered a pain reliever, is used in traditional medicines, and an aphrodisiac. The way it’s made is described in the fic, and thus the TW.

First Chapter Final Chapter

Root Beer Floats and Green Tea  🍵 Complete 🌳

What is it? A long Lawrusso fic set after The Karate Kid I where Johnny is a part of The Karate Kid II and III. Er, there’s so much so it’s hard to summarize this one. Johnny apologizes and there’s a massive ripple effect. It’s about love, healing, forgiveness and growth.

What are Root Beer Floats? Root beer floats are a combination of root beer, a soda found in North America made from the root of a Sassafras. In some countries like South Korea, root beer is unpopular due to the fact it tastes similar to medication found there. The name is a misnomer, there is no alcohol in North American root beer. A root beer float is made by adding vanilla ice cream to the soda.

First chapter Final Chapter

Extra content

All the food in Root Beer Floats and Green Tea Part 1 (Chapter 1-25) Part 2 (Chapters 26-43) Part 3 (Chapters 44-58) Part 4 (Chapters 59-77) Part 5 (Chapters 78-110) Part 6 Coming soon (final part) Cut Scenes and Rewrites: Around chapter 27/28 ended up rewriting and cut

Cut scene from around chapter 29

Original version of chapter 31 that was rewritten Prom prep and magazines that got cut and moved Original ending to chapter 89 that got cut and changed because oof angst

Original angsty chapter 90 Original chapter 91 and start of chapter 92 Playlist

Inspired Art By Zahara who it looks like deactivated, but you can still see them here and here and here. Art by Haruka Spiegel Inspired fic Warm Places, Safe Spaces by usa123

Konpeitō 🌠🛸Complete🛸✨

What is it? Halloween prompt from @ckhalloween, an alien sci-fi Lawrusso AU set during The Karate Kid I. Soulmate AU.

What is a Konpeitō? Konpeitō is a Japanese candy, specifically a type of wagashi. It came to Japan from Portugal and is essentially rock candy. It’s colorful small pieces of sugar that look like little stars. While the majority of them taste like just pure sugar, they do come in flavors.

First chapter Final chapter Playlist

California Roll 🍣🧜‍♂️ Complete 🧜‍♂️🍣

What is it? Another belated Halloween prompt from @ckhalloween that I saved for Mermay. This is a mermaid pre-The Karate Kid I Lawrusso AU where Johnny is a mermaid who gets lost and stuck in Newark.

What is a California roll? A California roll is a type of sushi, specifically a makizushi sushi roll popular in North America. It includes avocado, crab (sometimes imitation), mayonnaise (sometimes), and cucumber, wrapped in seaweed. As a makizushi sushi roll the rice is on the outside of the seaweed and for a California roll that is then rolled in either sesame seeds or roe (fish eggs).

First chapter Final chapter

Playlist

Devil’s Food (Cake) 👿🎂Complete (Oneshot) 🎂👿

What is it? A oneshot for a halloween prompt for @ckhalloween with a combo for demon and fairy tale where Johnny goes into the desert to make wishes or deals with a demon (Daniel) Link is in the title.

What is devil’s food cake? Devil’s food cake is a rich dense chocolate cake that’s layered with usually a buttercream frosting between the layers.

Drabbles

#pinned post #I'll update and add to this as I have time #but I wanted to have everything kind of organized for easier access

[cyborg-franky]

Love Letter

This is for @tremendousardency my dear tumblr ate your ask but I wrote down your name on paper and I remembered you asked for Marco? please enjoy <3

EDIT: OOPS OR WHOEVER ASKED FOR HIM

Marco pushed the stack of paperwork out of the way, wrinkling his nose when a few of the top sheets slipped off and fluttered across the floor, that was a problem for future Marco he thought as he dug around in his draws trying to find paper that wasn’t currently being used for notes or other important things.

Finding one with slightly misshapen and tarnished edges he pulled it out, laying it flat on his desk. Grabbing his quill and swishing the blue feather back and forth as he concentrated on what to write, he wasn’t an overly poetic man, better with verbal words then written.

He briefly contemplated going with Ace’s suggesting and complementing your ass but thought better of it, wanting to bring you some romance from across the seas. He knew you were working hard; you were off with your own division, and it wouldn’t be too long before you were in his arms again.

Staring at the paper, tapping the nib against it he began to write, remembering how you teased him about his sloppy handwriting, how he was much better at marking maps then trying to loop words together to look nicer.

Some described his writing as him just turning into his phoenix form, getting ink on his talons, and running across the page. He wanted to show he was taking time to write to you, making sure he was concentrating on his work.

‘Little bird, I hope this finds you well. I know you are busy with your own duties, more then likely far too busy to think about this old fool. I just wanted to write you to let you know you are in my thoughts; I check with Pop’s daily if he’s heard of your divisions progress. Much to his annoyance I can assure you’ He chuckled a little thinking about the grimace Pop’s would give when he saw him approach first thing in the morning.

‘I’ve already made a deal with Thatch to cook you something nice for Valentine’s Day, I found something on my last mission I think you’ll like… and I promise it’s not another shiny rock though I’m touched you still kept it. I can’t wait to have you back with me, I love you little bird’

He pushed out from his desk, waving the paper so the ink would dry faster, rolling it up and tying with a blue ribbon, making sure the bow would keep the letter secure. He opened the window to his office and whistled, a sort of chirping sound. A chubby pigeon landed on his outstretched hand, attaching the birds’ feet and sending it on its way.

He could have sent it himself, the irony wasn’t lost on him, he just thought it would be sweeter this way. He glanced over at his own duties, plus he had his own work to do.

#marco the phoenix #one piece x you #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #sfw #valentines love letters #marco x you #marco x reader #marco x yn #marco the phoenix x reader #gender nuetral reader

[fw00shy]

in which Draco studies the universe, and I, him

I’m finishing up a cup of tea in the living room with Hermione when an eagle drops a letter into my lap. Long day, Draco writes. Miss you terribly, but miss sleep more. Please do not resent me, as I am sure I will make it up to you in my dreams. There’s a dot of ink right after the first you, and it’s not hard to imagine him slumped over his desk, quill stalled to sudden slumber, the parchment an aged, yellow relic under the bright light of a laptop screen. Really, Hermione says with a roll of her eyes when I look up, I haven't used parchment since Hogwarts. You can’t possibly find that romantic.

Except I do. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a biro-hating, old-fashioned Pureblood now than I ever was. But there is something about a man who, in a fraught, new world of instant gratification, takes time out of his day to write out his love to you with his own hand. I don’t reciprocate in kind, mind; I’ve not the patience. But I love him, and I love that he does.

What else do I love about Draco Malfoy? I can say his eyes or his laugh, or I can tell you about the time he came over and dusted my flat. It was two or three years back, when I wasn’t as good about saying no to things, and I’d nearly died stretching myself thin over Auror training and Teddy’s second birthday and Ginny’s wedding and Hermione’s dissertation and and and. Think my allergies are acting up again, I’d scribbled on the back of a used sticky note, one of several dozen piled up on my desk still to do, and I nearly cried trying to remember if I’d done the thing on the sticky after I sent it.

Dust, was what I’d written. So Draco came and dusted and kissed my temple and left for a late lecture. And, just like that, I could breathe again.

But can you really explain an entire existence in a slice of a few hours?

We were at his flat the other day when Draco tried to explain to me the shape of the universe. Draco applied for Muggle uni after Hogwarts and got into cosmology that way, so he was thinking about this type of problem all the time. I understood that it was his job, but why dedicate his life to uncovering the formulas to a time and  place he could never go, when he’d barely grown roots on his own planet? Don’t you want to know? he said. I didn’t have the heart to tell him no.

So you’re telling me that the universe is flat.

Most suspect it is, yes. Otherwise, the universe would fold in on itself.

Didn’t people think that the earth was flat?

Flat with respect to general relativity, not in our sense of reality. But there are other theories—

I don’t feel flat. Merlin, can you imagine it? Me, the width of parchment. Couldn’t even hold myself up. Would you still love me then?

I think we’d fold up nicely together. He kissed my hands.

In truth, all that spacetime local geometry talk just went in one ear and out the other. No matter how many times Draco explained it, the universe refused to hold shape in my mind. I likened his research to taking a drink of sea water and going, yeah, it’s salty, but not like salt on a pretzel; more like salt mixed in a broth. And then someone asks, What’s broth? And there goes another three years trying to explain broth when all you wanted to explain was salt. And it wasn’t even about the salt. It was about the sea, and the vastness of it, all that space that wasn’t salt, and all that space that wasn’t planets or stars but was just space.

The skin between his eyes. The minutes between his hours. The moments between our meetings. How do I explain that the spaces between his days and the nights he spends alone are, in a way, still mine? That I love him for everything he does as much as for everything he doesn’t? How do I explain that the shape of his being is more than his body; that, to me, he is the universe?

(Eyes that see on another’s face. Heart that beats outside my body but is no less mine than my own. The ends of our lives folded up so that our past and our future touch.)

At best, the universe is perfectly flat and expanding at a constant rate toward the edge of infinity. Tonight, I can almost see it, shifting over my eyelids: the faint shape of a body; the familiar smell of ink.

for @drarrymicrofic prompt: space song (very loosely lol)

#apologies for typos! i wrote this on my phone #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #drarry #drarry squad #fwoosh writes #cw: space #ali don’t read

[roger-that-cap]

brand new eyes

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: having a penpal in the sixth grade was overdone, in your opinion. and handwritten letters just weren’t convenient. you weren’t happy at all to start talking to some random girl your age across the sea, but once you started, neither of you could find it in you to stop.

warnings: fluff!!!! mutual pining. badly written letters (actually the whole one shot). brief battle with sexuality. a seriously strong connection between two characters (almost soulmate territory here tbh). every single mistake here is 100% mine!

word count: 8.7k!

At first, you were sure that the pen pal letter suggestion for extra credit was stupid. Why would you handwrite a letter when you could send an email? Why would you send a letter by mail that would take much longer? It took two weeks for a handwritten letter to arrive, and only seconds for an email. It didn’t make any sense.

And then you got your first letter.

You realized very quickly why handwriting was what your teachers asked for. You never knew that handwriting could be so vulnerable, so open. You had never seen letters that were so loopy, so delicate. That letter was written so neatly and so personally even if the girl who had written it hadn’t meant it to be that way, and you knew that a computer even with all of its special fonts wouldn’t be able to do that.

You understood why the handwritten rule was there.

But you didn’t like it when it was your turn to craft something so beautiful.

It wasn’t a competition by any means, but you didn’t want your letter to look anything like the words you scratched down into your notebooks. You wanted them to be neat and pretty and most of all understandable for the girl behind the pen and across the sea, because she had done the same for you.

By the time you stopped ogling over the letters and started actually reading the words that the girl had written, you learned her name. You learned it within the first line, actually.

Wanda Maximoff.

She was obviously from Sokovia, she spoke English as her second language, and she had an older twin brother that she both adored and was annoyed by. She was in the equivalent of your grade in her country, and she liked to cook with her parents. The letter was basic and slightly elementary, just an introduction to what she was willing to share with a stranger that lived thousands of miles away.

But that didn’t make it any less special.

You started on your return letter minutes after you let her pretty words sink in.

You drafted your letter and let it sit for an hour without you looking at it, and then came back to it only to cross things out and revise it, and then put it on the expensive paper that your mother had bought for you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. It started with a greeting, your name, and then into the same sort of things that she spoke about in her own letter, the things that people that went to school with you had learned in passing over the years.

It felt like giving someone the rundown of your uneventful life so far in the simplest of ways. It felt like someone getting to know you as you wanted them to, because you were telling your story. There was no other side, or truth, or lie, just what your pen and your brain decided to write. It was controlled chaos. And you adored it.

Your print was easy to read. It wasn’t loopy like hers or as “girlish”, as one of your classmates said when you brought both letters to school to get an extra one hundred. It wasn’t fancy and alluring like hers, but there was still something magical on the pseudo-aged parchment.

You sent it off to the post office the next day, and you put her letter on your desk. 

§§§

By the time that your third letter from her came, you already were drafting your own. It came straight to your mailbox and when you checked the mail that morning, you were ecstatic to see it waiting for you, like a pet waiting for it’s person to come home. As usual, it started off with the gentle scrawl of your name, just a bit larger than all of the rest of the words that were on the page.

I can’t believe that it’s already been weeks of us writing. We started in August, and it’s nearing the end of October. Speaking of, is it starting to get cold there for you? It’s already cold for us. Our grandmother always makes us the best tea and soup when it gets cold outside, and I could send you the recipe if you wanted!

My brother and I are curious about one thing, and we hope that we get your answer in time, but, is Halloween really a thing? We have both heard of it, but we’ve never done it here. It sounds magical. I’ve always wanted to dress up however I wanted and get candy for it. If I were to do it, I would probably be a Disney Princess, maybe Merida. Sadly, we don’t do that here. Does it really happen in the United States, or is that a movie thing?

Hopefully you don’t mind my questions much, or my short letter. Pietro likes to read over my shoulder while I write and receive the letters, and I like to write at the kitchen table. There’s no escaping him. You’ve never talked about siblings, do you have them?

The rest of the letter was like that, aloof yet curious and bouncing around all the same, and then signed with her always rushed conclusion, which was nearly the same every time.

You read it and put the letter in the box that you had bought from a thrift store, a box just big enough for the size of the neatly folded and tied off letters that she gave you. You clipped the box shut and put it back under your desk, and then started working on your response.

Instead of just a letter, you sent her a letter in a small box that had the candy that you had gotten on Halloween night, and the mask that went with the rest of your costume. It wasn’t the Disney Princess that Wanda wanted to dress up as, but it was something. It was your something.

§§§

As the December portion of your letter writing, you and your penpal were supposed to learn of the other’s traditions during the Holidays, whether you or them celebrated or not. A huge slide show about the culture of your Sokovian friend was supposed to be shown, and you knew that there would be a lot of the same PowerPoints, a lot of the same pictures and sayings and explanations. You wanted something different. You also had no idea if Wanda did Christmas, but you had to ask.

Wanda,

I’m sure that you know that our assignment now is to present a slide show about what our penpal does during the Holiday season, but because I don’t know whether you celebrate Diwali or Christmas or Hanukkah, I’ll start with asking you about New Years, because I’ve never met a person who didn’t celebrate New Years.

What do you do on New Years Eve? I’ll start by telling you that I watch the ball drop with my family, eat food, and drink cider after it hits midnight. It’s a big deal here for us, because the new year is a time for self revolution, apparently. I’ve never done a New Years resolution, but maybe I’ll do one this year. Have you ever done one?

I know that food is very big over in Sokovia, so what kind of food do you traditionally have when you’re celebrating? Do you like it? Can you cook it yourself? Because I know that you have the same questions for me that you have to put in before you leave for Winter Break, I’ll answer my own questions.

And you did. You were thorough, partly because you thought that it was kind of you to do so because she should get a good grade, and also because she had written that she was thankful for your descriptions on multiple occasions. You had noticed that she was the more whimsical writer and that you came off as the more grounded one, and it intrigued you.

You wondered if you two would come off that way in person to other people, if you ever got the chance to meet.

When her letter came two weeks later, wrapped in aged string as always, you skipped to your bedroom, already pulling the box out from under the table and starting to read it. You smiled through the whole thing.

In her own way, not as precise or even in order as you, she had told you everything you needed to do a good slide show about Sokovia during the Holidays.

§§§

You were emotional at the end of the year. Not because you were leaving the sixth grade and going to a new building in the school and leaving behind your kind teachers, but because the pen pal assignment was over.

No other assignment had been so important to you, or eye opening. You were only twelve years old, but you were old enough to know that you had never found a friend like you had in Wanda, who was still thousands of miles away. No one else, not even the people that stood feet apart from you, offered you friendship like Wanda Maximoff did.

You couldn’t stop writing to her.

It was your turn to send a letter, the final letter that you were supposed to send, and then her closing letter was supposed to come two weeks later. You couldn’t just close it. Your entire mind was screaming at you to not close the book that you had hardly started yet.

So, as your pen rested on the parchment paper (without drafting first), you lifted it up, and changed your mentality from a “goodbye” to a hopeful and questioning one, as you hoped that she felt the same and wanted to talk just as much as you did.

Wanda,

It’s the end of the year. Technically, we should be done with our letters because it’s the end of the year, and the assignment is graded. This should be a closing letter, but I don’t think that our friendship was ever dictated by the grades that we got. We were always closer than all of the other pen pals at school that I knew, and I was hoping that you would want to continue writing.

You couldn’t write much more after that, because your pen was shaking and you were starting to get in the danger zone of dropping tears on the paper. If this was your last letter to Wanda, you wanted it to be pretty. Just half as pretty as she always made hers, if you could manage it.

You sent it off the next morning after finding an old string that was nearly the same colors as hers and getting your friend across the street to hold it down and color the outside of it for you.

§§

A part of you wanted to say that you wouldn’t have been expecting to still write handwritten letters to a girl in Sokovia in the ninth grade, but you certainly were. While everyone else in your class had lost contact after the assignments were done or tried and failed to keep contact afterwards, you and Wanda continued talking all through the years.

It astounded your parents, who were sure that in the beginning, you were just obsessed with someone who was your age and who wasn’t exactly like you. They thought for sure that you would have lost interest in talking to Wanda, but after three straight years, gas spent taking you to the post office, and money spent on special stamps and the same paper, they were starting to finally get the hint.

Because you were so close with Wanda, you hardly had close friends in your neighborhood, and maybe two or three at school. There was no one that knew you like Wanda did, and no one that knew Wanda like you did. One particular letter where you confessed probably the worst thing you had ever done to her that no one else knew was what finally let you know that she was the most judgement-free person in the world, and that you would do anything to keep her. You would never forget how the letter went, and how her response sounded. 

Wands, 

I’ve done something terrible. I may have accidentally gotten involved with a boy who already had a girlfriend, and I had no idea. I had literally no idea, and today she just called me out of nowhere and started crying over the phone to me, and I had no idea that he was with her. At all. It was so pitiful, and she’s not mad, and she says that she won’t tell anyone it was me, but still. She seemed to really like him, and I think I may have just ruined a relationship. I have no idea what to do, and all I feel is guilt. Nothing more or less. Should I send her something? Give her a gift card? I feel terrible because she was just so sweet about it.

The letter went on and on with your scripted rambling, so repetitive and panicked that you were shocked to know that Wanda had, in fact, read the entire thing. She got a message back to you rather quickly, and that made you both nervous about her verdict and glad, because you felt like with an answer so quick, she must not have judged you too harshly. You remembered opening it with shaky hands, and inhaling and exhaling when her first words after your nickname were “breath in” and “breathe out”. 

Wanda once said that writing to you was like writing to a diary who always wrote back, and you couldn’t agree more. She knew everything, and she never judged. And, when the time came for her to put all of her eggs in your basket of trust, you did the same for her. 

You distinctly remembered getting the few letters that you kept at the bottom of your letter stack, even though you liked to have them in chronological order. In the eighth grade, Wanda was having a crisis over her sexuality. Being anything but straight in Sokovia wasn’t the best thing to be, and you knew that. The first letter she ever sent you about her sexuality had dried spots on it, where she had obviously cried. Her handwriting wasn’t anywhere as neat as it usually was, and it sent you into a state of panic. 

We talk to each other about everything, so here I am asking for your advice because I won’t be getting anything here. I know that usually we keep our letters formal for aesthetic purposes, but I can’t this time. Also, no one other than you can read this. 

From there, she told you that she was sure that she liked women, and that she was even more sure that her parents would be upset at her. She told you that she had been dwelling on it for a while, thinking about it and having it weigh heavily on her mind. She was all over the board with it, from her parents being upset to her being afraid that you were going to be opposed to it as well, or tell her that she was “too young to think that way”. She ended the letter by telling you that you were the first person that she had ever told. 

You started your letter with your own confession, and Wanda Maximoff was the first one you ever told, too. You were past having your crisis, though, and you helped her through hers without a second of complaints. You always wished that you had someone to help you when you were down and questioning yourself, so you knew that you would be that for Wanda without hesitation. 

You two grew together even more, and by the ninth grade, you both knew that there wasn’t going to be anything in the world that could stop your letters. 

You came home one day after a long day and checked your mailbox out of habit, knowing that a letter wasn’t due for a few more days. But there it was, wrapped and sitting pretty for you. Your name was scrawled beautifully on the front in the handwriting that got better and better with every year, but you would recognize it anywhere. A smile grew onto your face as you walked to your front door, unlocking it and rushing inside to get to your desk. Of course, your name came first in the loopy letters.

I hope you’re doing alright! Things have been busy over here on my side of things, but never busy enough to not write you back. I just wondered, have been wondering for a while, really, if we were ever going to meet. We’ve been writing to each other for years, but I’ve never seen a picture of you. I know everything about you, but I’ve never met you. You are my best friend in the entire world, but I’ve never heard your voice. One day I would love to finally meet you. Would you be open to thinking about one of us flying out? Maybe after school is over for the both of us, we could make it happen. Number  

It was much longer than that, but that was what caught your attention, more than her description of her busy week did. You read the letter three times. And then again. Your heart thumped in your chest as you tried to get a grip on yourself, irrational nervousness gripping your throat like an iron fist.

You knew the day was coming. You knew that it was. You two didn’t know what the other looked like at all, and neither of you had ever asked. Sometimes, you thought about it, but other times you found that it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she looked like because she was the best friend you had ever had, so you forgot about it. But that wasn’t what worried you.

The thought of meeting her nearly put you in cardiac arrest. You couldn’t meet her. What if you met and you two were totally bored of each other? What if how close you were on paper didn’t reflect at all in real life? What if you two found roadblocks in conversation that you never saw before? You didn’t want to meet her, not at all. You were terrified of it.

Because if you didn’t connect with Wanda on sight, then you doubted that you would ever be able to connect with anyone else. If you were wrong about Wanda being your person and her being yours, you would be crushed. If you figured out that the person who you gave your all for didn’t like you anymore after meeting you, you would die on the spot. You couldn’t afford to find it out.

You sat at your desk for an hour after reading her letter, smoothing your hand over the paper like you always did before you wrote your response. You knew what you needed to say, you just didn’t know how to say it.

What she had already written helped you, too. She was implying that they met up after graduation, which was still years away. You had time to hold off on it, to not talk about it for a while. You had some stall time in the bank, for sure. And you were going to use it.

§§§

You made the mistake of not putting the letter in your box.

Your mother came into your room, and she saw the letter. Your desk was typically off limits, so you were upset that she read it anyway, but what she said led all anger out of your body and made way for fear.

“You should totally go see your friend, sweetie!”

“What?”

“I’d pay for you to fly out,” your mom said. “I’d come with you, but I would pay for you to fly out and see your friend. You’ve been writing each other for three years now, and you’ve never seen each other. You guys should do it.”

“You’d fly me out to Sokovia?”

“You’re a great kid, of course I would.” You took the letter from her hands gently and put it in the box, and she gave you a look. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to meet her,” you admitted plainly, and then your mother gave you a look.

“She seems so excited to, after all these years. She’s such a sweet girl, what are you worried about?”

You couldn’t answer that. Your fears were your own, and they sounded ridiculous out loud. They made no sense to everyone else, and sometimes not even to you. Wanda Maximoff was nothing but sweet and kind and a good friend, and there you were, trying to blow her off because you were scared of a possible lack of face to face connection.

“Can we just drop it?”

And you did. In fact, all four of you did, until later.

§§§

By the end of your junior year, you were done for. Not because of tests or applications or any of that, it was because you realized that you were in deep for Wanda Maximoff.

It all made sense. The need to keep writing to her, the excitement you had felt getting a letter since sixth grade, the way you marveled over her penmanship and loved everything that she said and did. You were so in love with her, and it was irreversible. You were in love with her and what the two of you created together. 

And you couldn’t lose that because of a bad meeting. 

You avoided the topic of going there or Wanda coming to you, and you finally got each other’s numbers so that you could text on some international texting app, but primarily, it was still the heartfelt letters with the occasional heart stamps and constant string coming your way. And you wouldn't haven’t wanted anything different. 

 You sat at your desk on the last day of school as you wrote to her, writing about how you were about to watch some of your slightly older friends graduate in a few days. You also mentioned how you were excited to be a senior and get through your last year of high school just so that you could go and do whatever it was that you wanted to do, because you were only seventeen, and you didn’t know anything. 

 Sunshine, 

I can’t wait to get out of high school. It’s not bad, just boring. I wish the people here were like you, and then maybe I could actually carry a conversation with them. Have you told your family yet? I told mine. My mom was… shocked to say the least, but she was fine with it. I think she might have suspicions about us writing to each other now, but who cares? I want to know if you’re alright. 

How’s your new job going? I know you were excited to get one, so I hope it’s treating you well. It’s funny that you and Piet work across the mall from each other. I knew it was gonna be like that, even though you said it wouldn’t be! You two are inseparable, it’s so cute. Does he have any idea what he wants to do after we get out of school? 

 I kind of think that I want to start my own business. A flower shop, maybe. You know how I sort of have a green thumb. I think it would be good for me to own something. What do you think? 

You wrote for about thirty minutes more, answering the questions she had asked you in a previous letter and signing your name at the bottom, a small smile on your face as you thought about her and her brother making food together like they always did. 

You loved her. You really did. 

§§§

 It was in the middle of your senior year when you realized what the problem with her coming was. You had been keeping it so far in the back of your mind that you didn’t even realize that the alarms were blaring in the back of your head. 

  You knew that if you saw Wanda in person once that you would never be able to let her go. You would have to pick up and move to her country or she would come to yours, and it would kill your mother for you to move. So, that would mean that you would be asking for Wanda to leave her own family to be with you, and you couldn’t be selfish.  

 So, you would be selfish in a way that was also selfless by holding off on seeing her. 

 You hadn’t told her that you loved her, and you planned on never admitting it. You were sure she kind of knew, even just a little, but she never said anything. The way that you were holding onto the idea of her probably said enough for her to know. You just hoped that she knew that you were in love with her as a friend, at least. Wanda was the type who needed to know that they were loved, and she so was. 

 You loved her without even knowing what she looked like. You loved her without knowing whether she had a nasty habit or if she was a neat freak. You loved her without seeing her in a dress or in your favorite color or even looking into her eyes. You had never even heard her voice before, but that didn’t matter at all. You fell in love with her hand writing, then the way that she wrapped her letters, and then her words themselves. And then, you just were in love with Wanda Maximoff. All of her. All that you knew. And the things that you didn’t.  

 You thought about a confession letter for a long time. You were terrified of it, to say the least, because what if it backfired? What if she thought that you were only interested because she came out to you? What if she thought that you didn’t mean it at all? 

Or worse, what if she just completely didn’t feel that way at all? What if the feeling she got when she wrote to you was nothing but platonic? That would be the biggest nightmare of all, and you had no idea how you were ever going to be able to pick up your fancy pen and put it to your special parchment after reading that. 

By the time that you finally stopped wrestling with yourself about whether you were going to tell her that you were in love with her, you got a letter in the mail. A heart stamp was on the outside and it was tied with the string it always was, and the familiarity calmed your racing heart. You opened it gently, like you did with all of the letters you got, and then you saw her familiar scrawl. 

How could someone’s handwriting feel like home? 

Moonlight, 

I would love to tell you about everything that’s been happening here, but I believe that it’s rather boring compared to what’s been bursting at the seams in my own mind. With every letter that I’ve ever written to you since we were thirteen, I’ve hesitated with my pen over telling you what I know has been true for years. I think that, finally, I know that I have something to say to you. I’ve always wanted to admit this to you, ever since the seventh grade. 

 I think that I fell in love with you, a long, long, time ago. I think that I know I did. I haven’t told you, and I never intended to tell you, because I was scared. I’m still scared here, as I write this letter, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore. 

  Pietro already knows, but he knew before I even did. I’m sure it has something to do with us being so in sync, that he knew where my heart, love, and loyalties were before I even knew myself. I tell you everything, and something as monumental as falling in love with someone, I believe that you should know. But I couldn’t tell you. Not in the beginning, and apparently, not even after a year or two. 

  I’ve never seen you or heard your voice or held your hand, but I don’t need that to know that I truly have fallen in love with the person that you are. You are a beautiful person with the most gorgeous soul I have ever had the privilege of talking to, and I think that we have stumbled upon a connection that we may never see again, if you feel the same way. 

 If this made you uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. I’m sorry if this came on too strong, or too up front. I never want to make you upset. 

 It’s okay if you don’t want to carry on writing to me after this letter. I just thought that I needed to tell you after all this time. We never lie to each other, and I think that this lie to save me from possible embarrassment or losing the greatest friend I have ever had has expired. Thank you as always for reading, Moonlight. 

 Your Sunshine, Wanda. 

Your jaw was slacked, and your mouth was open. Your heart was beating so quickly, but it wasn’t frantic. Your mind was going at a thousand miles a minute, but you were calm. You were supposed, but you weren’t. It simply felt… right. It felt like you had secretly been expecting it all along, like your soul had known the whole time, or maybe even like it had known that you felt the exact same way. It felt like you were receiving news that you had already heard about. 

But that didn’t take away any from the pure elation that you felt. You set the letter down so that you didn’t accidentally wrinkle it, and then put your head in your hands to hide your smile and think, like they would help you any. 

  She loves me. Wanda loves me. And not in the way that friends loved each other, that’s not how she loved you. She felt what you had been feeling, a bond so strong that it could be felt on paper. 

  Your hands shook as you reread the letter. You scanned over it for a second time, a third time, and you were tearing up by the fifth, finally setting it down again and leaving it on your desk. It didn’t deserve the beautiful darkness of the box where it’s predecessors went, not yet. Probably not ever. You would have framed it in the moment, if you could have. 

  Part of you was glad that she admitted it first. You were going to, one day, maybe. But the worst part was the hypothetical wait for the letter to cross the pond. Whoever sent the confession letter would have to wait about two weeks for a response, and that felt like forever. You knew that just as much as she did, and she still took the chance to do it. 

So, with the most fond and gentle smile on your face, you took out your special pen, wrote Sunshine as the entrance, and then professed your own love right back at her, trying as hard as you possibly could to make it as beautiful and raw for her as you felt on the inside, and as the one that she gave you. But, all you could think of were the first two sentences, but you knew that you were going to go for much longer than that. 

  Sunshine, 

Oh, Wanda. How I wish we were both brave enough to do this earlier. 

§§§

 By the end of your senior year, you two were dancing around each other, taking it slow, as if you both hadn’t professed your love for each other. You kept writing your steady letters to each other, the same nicknames, the same doting words and pretty scratched across the paper with dark ink. 

For the most part, nothing changed. But neither of you could deny the way that you wanted to see each other. And so, your time was up. You had to stop messing around. 

  The first time the two of you planned to see each other, it was supposed to happen over that summer break. It was supposed to be a nice experience for everyone, at a time that was actually pretty convenient. 

  And then, right during the week she was supposed to come, her aunt passed away, right in her sleep. It didn’t even come to your mind to think about rescheduling so fast, and that was the first time you had ever gotten an email from Wanda. She emailed you the morning that she found out, saying that she would rather send the first email than have you show up at the airport upset because you didn’t know she wasn’t coming. She was able to resell her ticket and you assured her that it was totally okay for her to not be coming, and you gave her condolences, as well. Wanda was very close to her family, and you knew that she felt that loss. 

  The next time the plans fell through, it was because you were going to surprise her. Your mom paid for your ticket, and you had finally grown out of your own mind and realized that it was going to be what it was regarding meeting Wanda. But, when you emailed her two nights before, spilling the beans because you didn’t want to just go to the airport without knowing how the hell to get around, you got a quick response. Turns out, she wasn’t anywhere near her house, or the airport. She was on a marine biology trip in some waters off the coast of Romania, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to write you all about it yet. You begrudgingly canceled the trip and told her that of course, it was alright. That night, your mom assured you that the two of you would just try again later.

 But then life happened. You went off to culinary school, a last minute yet sure decision after Wanda had taught you that there was so much more to love about food other than the taste. She had your new address and you had hers, because she moved from Sokovia to Italy for her marine biology major. The letters came and went faster, with the smaller amount of mileage. 

   Long story short, neither of you had enough money to go and spend thousands on a trip, and not even one helping the other out or splitting the cost helped much. Wanda was getting increasingly nervous about whether it was ever going to happen, and though she never stated it directly, it was very obvious. You were getting there, too. 

 The thing that kept you going was the letters. The same as they had always been on her end and yours, they were the one constant in your life. Wherever you went, you knew that her letters would follow you, and that you would still write from your heart and send your own across the sea over to some place in Europe. You knew that as long as her letters were lengthy and detailed and that if she took the time to wrap them as gently as she had been, that you two were strong. And as long as you kept giving advice and writing her entire short stories about you week, she knew that you were still hers. 

  You would be hers until your heart stopped beating, and long after that. You were there for her for as long as she wanted you to be, and that was widely known. 

§§§

It took four years for you to get back home and in a place where you could afford a ticket in or out. Wanda took a little longer, but that didn’t matter. It only gave you even more time to save and plan for when she came, and the date came. 

You were both twenty two when you bought her the winning ticket. You were flying her out to Florida for a week and a half. The Keys, to be exact. You knew that she was going to love it and the beautiful waters that came with it, and it was away from the meddling eyes and mouths of your family, the ones who had been routing for you from afar (and in the beginning, behind your back). It was just going to be the two of you in a condo, and you knew that it was going to be heaven on earth. 

 Now, hell on earth was the anticipation of waiting at the airport. You had no idea what Wanda Maximoff looked like, partially because it didn’t matter while you two wrote, and also because you wanted to see her for the first time in person. You two had a flare for dramatic romantics, another reason that you two clicked so well. 

  You stood with a sign that you had made the night before with paint that you had mixed yourself into her favorite shade of red, a scarlet, almost pink color. You were in a sundress because it was sweltering outside, and you were almost nervous about how she would take the heat after being somewhere so cold all of her life. You were rocking back and forth on your feet without even noticing, and your stomach growling was the last of your worries. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking, but you willed them to stay still so that she could at least have a chance of reading it. 

  You were sure that you were about to pass out. It seemed like it had been millennia and a day all the same with her in your life. Everything that you had written each other was really about to come to life, after ten long years. You felt almost like it wasn’t real at all, like you were about to be woken up by your alarm back in your apartment over at your old school. But it was very, very real, and all the receipts and your racing heart advocated for the truth in it all. 

The gates opened, and all of a sudden, people were lazily walking out, as one would do after a long flight. You were certain that the woman who was standing next to you could hear you start to slightly hyperventilate, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was Wanda. 

  A man came up from behind you and bumped you, and he said his apologies while you bent down to pick up the sign. Despite your nervousness, you stopped to tell him that it was okay, sign still face down on the floor. He grinned at you and then frowned when he looked up, causing you to mirror his expression. 

 Your name. It was clear as day, accented, close, and sounded like a sigh of relief and wonder floating in the wind. It came from a woman you didn’t know the voice of, and just like that, you remembered what you were doing. You left the sign on the floor, stood up, and turned around as fast as you could, eyes slightly wild as they soaked in everything about the woman standing in front of you. 

  Her hair was almost a cross between light brown and light red, even in the fake lights of the airport. She had light makeup on and she looked a little tired from the flight, but the look of elation on her face wiped it all away. Her pink lips were curved into an open mouthed smile, like she had forgotten the words while they were already halfway to her tongue. Your heart raced as you looked at her, and you didn’t even need to question who she was. Or who she was to you. You couldn’t look at anything but her face, the face you had been missing so achingly without ever seeing it before, the face that you knew was bound to give you comfort that you had never felt one in your life, until the end of your days. Her eyes were wide and a clear blue as they stared back at you, reflecting your exact expression, and you sensed that the two of you had already synced up and gotten on the same page, just like you had both predicted.

 “O-oh my god,” you breathed out, just inches away from her. “Wanda!” You went in for an embrace at the same time, both of you somehow knowing which way to lean your head to avoid collision, and just where to put your arms. You fought shaking when you held her, your nerves completely shot at it finally happening. You were actually with Wanda, in an airport, hugging her like there was all the time to spend in the world. “Oh my god,” you repeated, and you felt her squeeze you a little closer to her. You could have cried in that moment. 

 “You,” she pulled back from you to take your face in her hands, her blue eyes scanning over your face like she was studying priceless art. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it was the way she looked when she watched the animals underwater. She shook her head slowly, eyes welling up with the thinnest layer of tears as her lips turned up into a smile. “You are beautiful.”

  Your heart skipped a beat as you looked downwards, feeling yourself get hot at the bold and sincere compliment. You knew that anything more than about three words was going to smoke you stutter “Wanda, have you seen yourself?” She laughed, a soft sound that you had imagined hearing so many times that you almost thought you had made it up, until you saw the upturn of her mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

 “I’m- I can’t believe I’m actually here,” Wanda breathed out, and you felt the same exact way. How had you pulled it off? After nearly a decade of pining that was mutual and writing to each other about every little detail in your lives, she was finally right in front of you, where you could see her and touch her. 

  “How’d you know it was me?” You asked after a second of grappling for something to say. “I didn’t have my sign up when you came.” 

 The smile that was on her face went from being flat out joyful to content, almost peaceful. It rubbed off on you immediately as you leaned back into her touch, ignoring all of the people bustling around in the busy airport. “I just knew that it was you.” 

§§§

For the entirety of the day Wanda arrived, all the two of you did was stare at each other and hold onto each other, like you were both equally terrified that the gods were going to come down from wherever they resided to split you up again. There was hardly even any talking when you arrived at the condo, and it felt natural. The two of you had already spoken so much, and now you needed to catch up on just seeing her. You’ve seen her soul, her mind, her heart, and now you were seeing her face. It felt like you had always known it. 

 But you were the first one to speak as you held hands on the deck, her thumb drawing subconscious hearts on the back of your palm. “You have a way with words, sunshine.” The name contrasted to the sky, which was dark but illuminated with an almost full moon and stars. The city was mostly behind you, so the natural light was what you got. It was all that you needed. 

 You felt her content fade into joy. “Really?” 

You knew that she was nervous about her English, but to you, it was perfect. From her accent to the way that she sometimes missed connotations that were specific to the language to the idioms that accidentally slipped into your letters, you loved it. “Mhm,” you hummed, leaning your head on her shoulder. “And I never would have imagined that you sounded so… sweet.” 

 “Sweet?” She parroted, and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Somehow, you knew that she could feel it, in some strange way. “Can I ask you something?” The answer was yes. It was yes, and it always would be yes. So, you said that. She cleared her throat, a quiet sound that you stored in your memory to keep, simply because she made it. “Did you… did you mean what you wrote?” 

 You were stumped. There had to be hundreds of letters between the two of you, and thousands upon thousands of topics. But you couldn’t question yourself for long, because then you knew exactly what she was talking about. 

  Did you truly love Wanda? The question came up a few times between you and your mother when you were in your first year of culinary school. Were you in love with Wanda Maximoff, or were you in love with the idea of Wanda and the mystery she brought? The question had been brought up, many times by your mother, who was only just making sure that you were being smart, and the answer never once varied. Yes. You loved Wanda Maximoff with every breath you took, every stroke of your pen, every glance at her pretty script. You knew that Wanda was it for you, and seeing her only solidified it. The way your hand fit together like they were the missing parts of a lost artifact made it concrete. The way she gave you everything back and the way you did the same told you everything you needed to know. 

  You leaned off of her shoulder and turned to face her, a soft smile on your face as the moon came out from behind the singular patch of clouds in the night, illuminating her features. You saw her face and her spirit through brand new eyes, and it was wonderful. It was all you could ever ask for. “Wanda,” you started, your voice quiet enough to not disturb the moment, and the sound of waves crashing not too far away. “I’ve loved you since I knew what love was, and I have been in love with you for as long as I knew what the difference between the two really was. Everything that I have ever sent to you, every word, I meant it all. And I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.” 

 She was staring at you blankly, with only a bit of something lingering in her gaze. Then, as soft as a breeze, she was muttering something under her breath in her mother tongue and putting her hand on your face. “Can I kiss you?” 

You ignored the way that your heart surged in your chest. The moon was still out and bright, shining down on the two of you like you had paid for it to be a spotlight. “You never have to ask,” you said, and then, as fluidly and gently as humanly possible, she tilted her head and leaned forward, and you met her halfway. 

§§

You had never been scuba diving before, but Wanda was in her element. She helped you suit up after she told the instructor that she was certified, and then rolled her eyes playfully when he checked behind her work. You cracked a smile. The entire time he was instructing, she was nearly bursting at the seams to get into the water, and the second he said that the two of you were allowed to go, she was holding your hand and asking if you were ready. 

 You never thought that Wanda could look more beautiful than she already had, but in and near the water, she was something else. She was in a state of grace and peace all the same, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be so tranquil, for the rest of her life. All you wanted in return was to be privileged to see it. 

The gods that made you fear a bad trip were actually on your side, because Wanda excitedly pointed out a group of migrating sea turtles, not even paying either of you any mind at all, carrying about through nature. You smiled at them and at her, unable to decide which one was going to be the apple of your eye at the moment. You chose her. 

§§§

You got out of the shower, your skin still slightly damp and the air humid from the heat of the water. You smiled at Wanda when you caught her looking at you, giving you that same blank stare that she had the first night the two of you got there. You stopped in your tracks, giving her the encouraging look that you knew she needed. “You okay, Wands?” 

 “I love you.” 

Your breath hitched. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and you both knew it. The weight of the words and the confession felt so true, so genuine, that it went straight to your heart and made it swell with warmth. A small yet generous smile stretched onto your face as you felt everything fall into place. “I love you, Wands.” 

  “More than I’ve ever loved anything,” she continued, like she hadn’t even heard you, and you looked back at her with a doting expression. “And, I’ve been holding off because I don’t know how to say that,” she paused, and then she fell into deep thought. 

 You took a step closer, assuming that the small language barrier had come up. When it took her more than a few seconds and you saw the little scrunch of confusion between her brows appear, you spoke up. “There’s no rush,” you said gently. 

“If other people were to look at us, they would say that we have only known each other for three days,” she said, and you nodded. “But, I feel that we’ve known each other for thousands of years. I feel that we were made to meet, and that we were always going to no matter what came up. Why else would we both be so focused on talking to each other? I have always seen you as someone special to me, always, but now that we have finally seen each other face to face, I think that my… heart is recognizing you as it’s other part.” 

 You had no words in your mind at that moment, because they were all in your heart. You couldn’t open your mouth to convey the pure shock and relief that you felt at her admitting something that you had been feeling the whole time. You swallowed and felt your eyes burn with tears, but before they could fall past your cheeks, Wanda stood up and wiped them from your face before pulling you close. 

  Nothing mattered. Not the fact that you were still wet and she was in her pajamas, not the fact that you were in a towel, not the fact that the pizza man was knocking at the door. It was you and her, like it always had been in your mind, and Wanda’s too. 

  You were it for her, and she was it for you. And while you hugged it out in that beautiful condo in Florida, you silently thanked your sixth grade English teacher for making you write to a random girl your age all the way across the Atlantic, and you thanked Wanda for being the one who wrote her way right into your life. 

so. uh! hiiii! i hope y’all liked it! i loved writing it, even though she was a lil bit of a challenge, not gonna lie. feedback is always appreciated!!

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfic #wanda fluff #scarlet witch #marvel au #wanda maximoff fluff #lgbtq #lesbian!wanda

[xsamsharons]

letters - nikolai lantsov.

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader

genre/warning: it's pretty angsty, specially towards the end.

words: 1.4k

summary: a collection of the most important letters your prince and childhood best friend sent you during the years he was away from you.

a/n: i implied that nikolai is an aquarius in this... and i'm not sorry.

Arrived on December 25: One month since he left the palace.

I sat down to write to you as soon as I got to the infantry, as I promised, and I’d say I miss you but I don't want you to let the compliments get to your head. This will probably get to you in a few weeks, but I hope you’re doing well and I'm looking forward to seeing you again soon (but not too soon… i can use some time away from you).

N.

Arrived on January 20th: Two months since he left the palace.

Happy New Year!

It sucks that you aren’t here to help me steal liquor from the main room, or to sneak out into the gardens to tell horror stories about the fold, and I hope you haven’t replaced me with my brother yet. I hope you’re not having too much fun without me, and I still won’t say I miss you.

N.

Arrived on December 17th: Three years since he left the palace.

I did it, I completed my service! I know I haven't been writing to you as much as I used to during my first year here, but ever since being named Mayor I've been a lot busier and couldn’t find the time to sit down and use ink to express my thoughts. I think I also didn’t want to admit to myself how much I miss home, and putting it on paper only made it seem all the more real. I’m coming back in a month, we can spend all the time together that you want (and i know you want to spend a lot of time around me after not having seen my beautiful face for three years) and i think i’ll even still be there for your birthday! I won’t get you a gift, though, because my presence should already be enough.

See you soon, lapushka.

N.

Found on your nightstand on November 21st: The morning he left Ravka.

I’m struggling to put into words everything going through my mind as you are sleeping next to me. I can recall our kiss and I can recall your touch accompanied by your soft words against my lips. If I focus on the good, everything feels right, and if I focus only on last night, it almost feels like we have enough time left.

I’m deeply sorry you have to find out once I'm not already next to you, but I'm leaving Ravka in the morning and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you this to your face, which is why I'm writing it down as you sleep. It feels almost ironic how after a year together, we’re back to the letters, and it feels almost stupid how even though a year sounded like an eternity, our time together is already over once again.

I hope you can forgive me for a lot of things, but i specifically wish for you to forgive how much time i wasted not kissing you, or denying my feelings, or not appreciating our time together. I wish for you to forgive me waiting until our last night together to finally admit everything to you and do what I've been wanting to do my whole life, and I wish for you to forgive me for going away the morning after it happened.

I’ll come back to you, if you’ll still have me, and I'll do things right once I'm back by your side.

I hope you can forgive me,

N.

Arrived on December 19th: One year since he left Ravka.

I haven’t heard back from you in the year I've been gone, and it’s driving me insane. I’ve thought about you every single day since I left, and on the days where I feel like everything I'm doing is useless, I picture your face to remind myself what I'm fighting for. You’ve always seen through me, which is why I assume you know I'm a wreck without you and your letters to get me through the months I spend away from you, and I don’t know if you need more time, or if you simply don’t want to associate with me anymore. Either way, I remember your letters during my first year in the infantry. I keep them all inside a drawer in my room, and I've been re-reading them more and more often, pretending like they’re new ones that you’ve been sending me during recent times.

I’m not afraid to say I miss you anymore, and I do so like crazy.

N.

Arrived on January 7th: One year and one month since he left Ravka.

I assume you not responding to my last letter means you are done with me, and I completely understand. I saw a bird on the beach today, and I remembered you pointing that specific species out to me in one of the dozen of books you read.

Happy new year,

N.

Arrived on November 19th: Two years since he left Ravka.

I doubt you will ever want to write to me again, just like I doubt you even open the letters that I still send every month updating you on the most mundane things about my life. However, if one day you wake up and find that you miss writing to your very handsome prince, please make sure to address the letters to Sturmhond, the privateer, and not Nikolai, the prince.

I miss you everyday,

S.

Arrived February 16th: Two years since he left Ravka.

I hear your voice in every sea shanties i hear the crew sing, and I see your face in every person I see when we get a day on land. I drive myself crazy at night just wishing I could see you again, hear from you again, touch you again, even though my mind doesn’t fail to remind me how much I don't deserve your affection, your letters or your touch. Everything reminds me of you, and everything that doesn’t just makes me feel like I'm drifting further away from the only place i’ve ever called home.

I can attempt to put into words how sorry I am for how things happened between us, but my intention was never to hurt you or to ruin anything we could’ve been. I miss your hands running through my hair on the nights when i couldn’t sleep, i miss your arms around my body tightening on the days when we had to separate for a few days, i miss seeing your eyes shine with admiration while watching the sun set over the horizon from the palace’s roof, but most of all i just miss… you.

I’d trade a lifetime of adventures for just a minute of your presence,

S.

Written on August 19th: The journey back to Ravka. Letter never sent.

I’m on my way back to Ravka and the only thing I can think about is your sleeping figure the morning i left. My mind should be occupied with thoughts about the responsibilities that await me, about the Sun Summoner and The Darkling, about the war and the fold, but they’re not.

The space you occupy in my thoughts and in my heart is almost suffocating, sucking the air and life out of everything until there’s nothing else but you. I should’ve put you first, and I should've come back the minute I realized my mistake, but I was scared of my feelings so I avoided them until it was too late.

I keep thinking you’ll run into my arms and tackle me onto the ground when you see me again just like last time, your hair looking like you just rolled out of bed and your eyes filled with sleep.

I’ll see you soon,

S.

Written on February 9th: One day after the Darkling’s attack on the Little Palace. Barely legible handwriting.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Written on February 13th: Five days after the Darkling’s attack on the Little Palace. Letter lost at sea.

I’ll never stop looking for you, and I promise I'm coming back for you, I won't let him hurt you. I’m sorry that my foolishness led you to end up in his hands.

I’ll find my way back to you, because it’s always you,

N.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai #nikolai x reader #nikolai imagine #nikolai fanfic #nikolai fic #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #siege and storm #ruin and rising #six of crows #crooked kingdom #nikolai duology #king of scars #rule of wolves

[stardustedsins]

Sunset Sky

Merman Okuyasu/reader (gender natural reader), ~1000 words

Sunmary: You’ve just moved to an isolated little house on the beach, and you’re looking for someone to talk to

Read on ao3 here or below the cut

You finish your letter and set your pen down, letting the ink dry before you roll the paper up and slide it into a glass bottle. You wedge the cork in firmly to keep the seawater out, and your message in a bottle is ready to go.

It might be silly, but you’ve written a short letter to whoever finds the bottle saying that you’d like someone to talk to. You’d explained how you’ve just moved to a new town and don’t know anyone here yet, and you’d included your email address for them to contact you. Even if it doesn’t work, you enjoyed making it, and you’re about to enjoy throwing it out to sea.

The tide is going out right now, so you head outside. Your new home is a beachfront cottage, with no close neighbors. The house itself is a bit of a fixer upper, but you like the location and privacy.

You walk into the receding waves until they’re splashing at your ankles, and then you hurl the bottle as far as you can, hoping it will drift further out (but if it washes back up here, you’ll just pick it up yourself). Message sent, you go back inside.

Days pass, and you forget about the bottle in the midst of unpacking and cleaning up the house. If it’s out at sea, it’ll take time for anyone to find it anyway.

Or so you think until you walk outside to water your plants and find a merman laying next to your daylilies.

“Hi!” He waves, and you squeeze the trigger on the hose in your surprise, spraying him with a jet of water. You’re about to apologize, but he speaks before you can.

“Hey, thanks, I was feeling a little dry.”

“Um...who are you?” You manage to ask, still staring. It’s hard not to, really. You’ve never seen a merman before, since they’re not even supposed to be real. His tail is as long as your whole body, with deep blue scales and shimmering fins. There are scales on the “human” half of him too, running down his arms and up the sides of his face.

“I’m Okuyasu.” He says, seeming not to notice your staring. “I found your note, and it had to have come from nearby, and you’re the only new human I’ve seen lately, so here I am.”

“You know...I expected whoever found that to just email me.” You point out, but he just looks confused.

“What’s an email? You wanted someone to talk to, right?”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“That’s why I’m here. Also, you probably shouldn’t throw stuff in the ocean. If I hadn’t found it, it could’ve got broken. Or, I don’t know, eaten by a whale.”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that. Sorry.” You apologize, and Okuyasu shrugs.

“Anyway, what’s your name?” You tell him, and he starts asking more questions, about where you’re from, your hobbies, and other things that tend to require explanations of human things he isn’t familiar with.

In return, he tells you about his home in the ocean, his friends, and their antics. Some of his stories require explanations too, since you’re equally unfamiliar with his world. Before you know it, the sun is setting. You’ve spent the whole evening talking with Okuyasu, getting to know him.

“It’s getting late, I’d better get back.” He finally says. “I’ll see you again soon!”

“I’d like that.” You smile at him. “Do you want me to walk to the edge of the water with you?”

“Nah, you can go on inside. Getting around on land is kinda slow.”

You tell him goodnight and head back inside as he starts awkwardly crawling back to the sea.

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

Okuyasu comes back to visit you often, and even takes you swimming and snorkeling. You meet some of his friends, when he can talk them into hanging out close enough to shore for you to swim with them, and even his pet Tama, who is apparently some kind of marine otter (although you’re nowhere near their usual range, and Tama looks a little odd somehow). You find yourself spending most of your free time with him, and really enjoying his company.

At the moment you’re sitting together at the edge of the water watching the sunset, trying to see the green flash. Okuyasu swears he’s seen it before, but you’re a little doubtful you’ll see it today. You’ve been chatting idly while the sky turns yellow and orange as the sun sinks lower.

“-and my mom used to say if you see it and make a wish, it’ll come true! ‘Course, I don’t think I ever had one come true, but maybe it’ll work for you.”

You’ve been playing with a handful of the wet sand while he talks, letting it drip through your fingers and form little towers before the next wave washes over them and flattens them out again, and you think your wish would be to keep doing things like this with Okuyasu forever.

The thought makes you glance over at him. He’s focused on the horizon, and he looks really handsome in the golden evening light. The little smile on his face makes you want to kiss him.

Wait, where did that come from? You take a moment to examine your feelings and come to the realization that you really like Okuyasu, and not just as a friend. How are you supposed to tell him that? Would a relationship between the two of you even work out, since he lives in the sea and you on land? Would-

“Hey, you okay?” Okuyasu nudges you, and you realize he’s been trying to get your attention. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you just blurt them right out.

“I like you!”

“Yeah, I like you too. It’s cool having a human friend.” He smiles at you, and your heart flutters. You figure you may as well commit to what you’ve accidentally started.

“No, I mean I like you…romantically. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I’m happy just being friends!”

“Wait, for real?” Okuyasu asks, and you nod. “No way! Koichi said that Yukako said that she thought you might like me back, but I thought she was just misreading it because I told Koichi maybe it’s just different between merpeople and humans so she got the signs wrong or whatever-“

You take his hand in yours and he falls silent, looking down at your joined hands with wonder. He’d said Yukako thought you might like him back, which means he likes you!

“Hey, Oku? Can I kiss you?”

“That’s the one with the lips? We don’t really do that, but I wanna try if you do. Show me how?”

“Like this.” And you lean in and kiss him. He’s slow to respond, and a little clumsy, but you wouldn’t change a thing about your first kiss. And when you pull apart, you’re just in time to see the little sliver of the sun still visible above the horizon shine green for a single second.

It looks like your wish might just come true after all.

#jjba x reader #jojos bizzare adventure x reader #nijimura okuyasu x reader #diamond is unbreakable #nijimura okuyasu #my writing #gender neutral reader #sfw #summer vibes

[megalony]

What belongs to me

This is a new Murderer! Ben Hardy imagine that someone requested a while ago and I’m sorry lovely I lost the request but I’m sure I’ve written what you wanted. It’s going to have a follow up part, I hope you all enjoy it, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27​

Murderer! Ben Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) tried her best to leave Ben behind her and move on with her life away from him, but deep down she knew he would never let her go. Especially not when she had something that belongs to him.

Enjoy

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

He'd found her.

She had been stupid enough to think that she was winning this game, that she had finally gotten the better of him. But Ben never lost and this was the proof of that.

Everything that Ben did was like a game to him. Going to a family event, he had to get the last word on a matter that he cared about, he had to be there first and could not be the last one to turn up. Going to work, he was the boss and if someone didn't do as he asked of them then he would punish them and it was a game to him. The longer someone evaded him, the more fun it became.

But this was a step too far for (Y/n). He was turning their breakup into a game, he had made it is mission to find her and now his men had finally found her. Ben was the kind of person who liked to keep tabs on people and they both knew that sooner or later, he was going to force (Y/n) to come back to him. She had taken the brave step of leaving him but it wasn't enough because Ben wasn't going to let her leave him just like that.

Ben did whatever he could to get what he wanted, he cheated, hurt and often murdered to get what he wanted and what he wanted right now, was (Y/n) back. He didn't care what he had to do even if he knew the more he tried, the more he was pushing her away.

Having his men follow her was something (Y/n) had gotten used to in their relationship but it was something she now feared since they had broken up.

(Y/n) feared that one day she would look over her shoulder and find one of Ben's men following her, keeping tabs on her and getting ready to pounce and bring her back to the Devil himself. So far she had done well in eluding him, she had gotten away and managed to stop herself from going back to him because she knew getting away was the right thing for her.

But now he had found her.

He had managed to get his men to find her and they weren't going to stop now they had finally caught a glimpse of her. Before, it didn't used to bother (Y/n) because Ben's men were following her to ensure her safety and because it was a dangerous world when involved with Ben. But now they were following her because Ben was possessive and he wanted to keep his grip on her.

The man who had found her had been hard to spot because it was the one person (Y/n) wouldn't suspect to see following her.

The one man who was closest to Ben. He hardly ever left Ben's side, he was like a loyal pet or a puppet whose strings had to be pulled for him to go or do anything. Seeing Joe here right now without his master was something (Y/n) hadn't expected.

But when his kind eyes latched onto hers, there was a look of sorrow in them that she couldn't take.

Three months (Y/n) had been out of his grasp, she had been away from him and had tried to carry on with the life she had before Ben but (Y/n) was finding that it was near impossible to do that. The life she had before him was boring. It was a life that was dull, calculated and predictable but when Ben walked into her life he changed it in so many ways it was hard to see straight.

(Y/n) knew getting away from him would be hard, but now she was realising that it was impossible.

She couldn't have left the country, this was her home and she didn't want to leave her friends and family behind. Getting a place of her own had taken some time so when she left Ben the only places she could immediately go to were either her sister's house or her best friend. Both of whom Ben knew and he knew where they lived.

But (Y/n) was sure that Ben didn't know where she lived now that she had gotten her own place. She had done it discretely and with the help of her sister, the apartment wasn't even in her name so Ben couldn't track her that way. She had gotten a new phone, was looking for a car of her own and for the first month she barely left her sister's house and when she did go out, she knew she hadn't been followed. (Y/n) went as far as to leave the house through the alley at the back of her sister's garden because she knew no one could be watching her if she left that way. Nor did she go to any of the usual places she normally did when she was with Ben and she had never once seen him or his henchmen following her.

He had found out.

Ben wouldn't send his right hand man to follow her unless he knew. He had sent flowers, letters, angry texts, loving texts and even threats to her sister's house telling (Y/n) in no uncertain terms that sooner or later he would get her back. Ben had never attempted to see her in the last three months and (Y/n) knew he was biding his time because when he lost his patience he was going to drag her back by her hair if he had to. He didn't let go of what was his and his possessive nature always got the better of him, it was his downfall and the reason (Y/n) left.

Now Ben's possessive side was taking over again because he had clearly sent his men out looking for her and now one of them had found her. He was always keeping and eye on her movements, who she saw and where she went when they were together and he clearly wanted to be back in those old habits. He was getting ready to pounce like a predator.

He was going to see her himself soon and there was only one explanation for that. He had found out what she was so desperately trying to keep secret from him.

"(Y/n), are you still with us?" A chuckle followed Serena's words as her head leaned in closer to her younger sister to try and get her back into the conversation at hand. It looked as if (Y/n) had become trapped in her head, lost in thoughts that were consuming her to the core.

"Yes- I, um... I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Go? We haven't even eaten yet, where do you have to rush off to?" There was a look of confusion in her mother's eyes but there was also sorrow and (Y/n) knew exactly where those emotions were coming from.

When (Y/n) had been with Ben she rushed off a lot to his beck and call, she didn't see her family as much because she wanted to be so wrapped up in Ben and consumed by him. She was always on edge waiting for him to call or text and they never got to do things like this, to just sit down and have lunch. When (Y/n) initially left Ben she wouldn't leave the house for the first month. Now they all finally had a chance to sit down together and have a meal and be like it was in the old times. But now she still had to speed off even when this was the first time they had sat down where (Y/n) wasn't panicking that Ben was going to barge through the doors and take her away.

"I can't do this."

"Dear, you'll be fine he won't come and get you. Just sit and have something to eat-"

"I'm not hungry... I'm sorry, I- I'll call you soon."

(Y/n) didn't have the energy to argue and she didn't have the time to hang around and explain or come up with a better excuse than this. She couldn't sit through dinner being smothered by her mother and sister who hadn't stopped since the moment she told them she had found the courage to leave Ben. They wanted to wrap her in cotton wool because they thought she was about to fall to pieces.

As much as she loved her family and how they were helping her, (Y/n) couldn't be babied any more than this and she couldn't have Ben's henchmen watching her and her family have dinner. If he wanted to follow her then he could do so but he had to know she wasn't going to go down without a fight.

She would rather have her family think that she was too afraid to be out in the open than to admit that one of Ben's men had found her.

(Y/n) slung her bag on her shoulder and headed out of the crowded cafe, feeling Joe's eyes burning into her as she passed and she knew he would wait an extra second before following her as not to make it look too suspicious.

(Y/n) didn't like this, she could never usually feel their presence when they were following her unless they were walking right beside her. All of Ben's men knew how to be ghosts, they knew how to follow her from a distance and be undetectable and (Y/n) preferred it like that. Ben always told her to forget they were even there and it was always so easy to do that. But right now, she could feel Joe quickening his pace to keep up with her, wondering where she was going and what she was going to do since he knew she had spotted him.

She didn't know what to do.

(Y/n) couldn't have Joe following her for the rest of the day, week month or even the rest of her life. She couldn't spend her time waiting for one or more of Ben's men to follow her as she bided her time until Ben finally appeared in the flesh.

Nor could (Y/n) carry on with her day when he was following her.

It had been far too good to be true to believe that she wasn't going to be followed or watched anymore after having three months of being free and trying to get her life back together. Ben would do anything to get her back and now he had found her today, he wasn't going to let her slip through his net again.

Finding a small abandoned street just off the main road, (Y/n) turned down it and leaned her back up against the brick wall on her right. Her arms folded over her chest and her brows rose as she watched Joe round the corner. He hung his head in momentary shame at the realisation that (Y/n) was waiting for him and she didn't look best pleased.

"Long time no see, eh, love?" The compassion in Joe's lopsided smile didn't quite reach his eyes that still held a sense of sorrow that frightened (Y/n). Joe knew more than she did, he knew why he was here following her today and he knew what Ben was up to and the sorrow in his eyes was clearly for her. That didn't give (Y/n) much confidence in what Ben was planning to do.

"What are you doing here, Joe? He let me be for three months before any of you found me, what's going on?"

There was no other way for (Y/n) to talk to Joe other than to dive right into the problem at hand. She had to know why he was here and what was happening, as much as Joe was an old friend to (Y/n), he still worked for Ben and therefore idle chit-chat wasn't going to work today.

"I'm under orders, (Y/n)... did you honestly think he would let you go without a fight? You may not think it but he loves you-"

"Oh I know he does, but I can't handle his ways of love anymore Joe. I can't take being followed and smothered and possessed like I'm his most favourite toy. Can you imagine how compressing and controlled it feels to be the thing Ben loves the most? It's not an honour, it's a sentence."

Ben's ideas of love were not normal.

At first, he made (Y/n) feel special. He made her feel different and prized and loved and the most important thing in the world to him and those views didn't change. She was all of those things to Ben and more, but after time, (Y/n) could see through the cracks. She could see that being Ben's most cherished and loved person in his life made her one of his possessions and if someone touched or threatened his possessions, he became nasty. Ben had to have complete control over everyone and everything that he owned and (Y/n) was no exception to that way of life when it came to Ben.

He had to know where she was, what she was doing, who she was going out with. He had to keep tabs on her and make sure she was okay and she had to be controlled by him. (Y/n)'s life was morphed into Ben's life and plans, she was under his influence and when that happened, no one could escape it.

Being loved by Ben was a prison sentence because there was no escaping his controlling nature, no matter how honourable it felt to be the thing Ben loves most.

"And can you imagine what he will do if he doesn't get back the thing he loves most? I know he made you feel like you were a toy that he owned, I know being guarded by us and controlled in what you can and can't do is not the way to live or be loved. But he changed when he was with you and he would do anything to get you to come back."

"But that should be my choice, not his. He can't choose when or if I come back Joe. I'm done with him, you have to tell him to stop this. I don't want you all following me, I don't need him to keep tabs if he wants me back he needs to let me go."

(Y/n)'s arms tightened over her chest as she felt like cowering back in fear even though she didn't feel afraid of Joe.

The only way Ben would gain her respect in wanting her back is if he let go of the control around (Y/n). He had to stop keeping tabs on her and trying to pull her back to him. If she could be herself and stop being afraid of Ben trying to get her back, she could live her life without him and then go back to Ben on her own terms if she wanted to. Dragging her back by the scruff of her hair was not going to make her want to stay.

"You know as well as I do that Ben does things his own way... he wants to see you." Joe shrugged his shoulders but the sorrow seemed to grow deeper in his dark hazel eyes.

"Well I don't want to see him."

The response was plain and simple but it wasn't coming straight from the heart because (Y/n)'s heart was fighting with her mind. Part of her was desperate to see him again, to see how he was coping and if he really had changed like she was praying he had. But the other half of her, the knowledgeable side knew that she couldn't see him again in fear of getting wrapped up in his web of control. Once she saw him, she was never going to get away and another chance of escaping Ben and his control was not going to come around very soon.

Especially not if Ben had found out what (Y/n) was dreading he had.

"I'm sorry to say that I don't think you'll have a choice, but... did you really think you had left him behind these last few months? A new flat in Serena's name and a new phone isn't going to keep you safe when you're keeping something valuable from him. I'll see you soon, (Y/n)."

"What? Joe, Joe! What do you mean?"

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

No, no no!

The moment (Y/n) turned on the lights in her apartment,  violent shivers ran throughout her body and her chest tightened like someone was squeezing her lungs to try and make them pop.

Her hand stayed gripping the door handle with ferocity but her pupils darted all around the apartment like she was searching for a threat.

All along the floor of her flat from the front door right through the living room and she guessed round to the kitchen, were rose petals. Various sized blood red petals scattered the floor turning the grey vinyl into a river of blood that started to move from the small breeze the door created when it opened.

Ben truly had found her.

It wasn't just his men following her anymore, it was him knowing exactly where she was staying and trying to scare her back into his arms. Why couldn't he just listen to (Y/n)? All she wanted was for him to give her the space she needed. If Ben could show her that he would stop controlling her and trying to make her give in to him then she could give him another chance.

(Y/n) didn't know how to tell her heart to stop loving him but her mind was finding it easier and easier to despise him when he started being possessive and controlling like this. No matter how deeply she loved Ben, his dark side was what made her back away to try and save herself. But he never let her go. She was his. (Y/n) belonged to him because he loved her so deeply and passionately that he could let nothing take her away from him, not even his bad side. He pushed her away but pulled her straight back like he was toying with her because he wanted and had to do things his own way.

Trying to control her breaths so they weren't too loud, (Y/n) slowly tried to open the door again without making a sound but the moment she tried to open it, a voice cut through the silence.

"Where are you going baby, you just got here."

Such a lightheaded feeling came over (Y/n) she thought she was going to faint the moment she heard that voice. It was a low tone with a scratchy edge from trying too hard to be sickly sweet.

"Why are you here?"

(Y/n) tried to make her voice stern and hard but her voice cracked and she sounded frail instead. She could never manage to stand up to her lover, Ben always managed to overpower her in any kind of situation and he always made sure she knew it. The only time she ever got one over on him was when she managed to leave without him knowing what she was planning. He hadn't found her for three months and (Y/n) had been dumb enough to believe she may just have gotten out of his vice grip.

But here he was, showing her just how wrong she had been in thinking she had succeeded against him.

"Because you left. So I'm here to bring you back with me where you belong... and I wanted to see if it was true."

Ben slowly walked around the counter of the kitchen so he was standing in the middle of the apartment, basking in the light so (Y/n) could finally get a glimpse of him after three months of trying to forget he ever existed.

Sometimes, (Y/n) could picture him so perfectly it was as if he was stood in front of her like he was now. And sometimes, in the dead of night, (Y/n) couldn't see him properly when her mind started wandering to him. His eyes were never emerald green when she wanted to imagine them, she couldn't see his hair that fell in curls around his face. Nor could she imagine how much taller than her he was when they were standing together.

She thought it was better when she forgot, it was easier to try and push him out of her mind.

But now he was here, stalking towards her like a predator about to come and take it's prey.

(Y/n)'s hand was still prized around the door handle and when Ben was less than a metre away from her, he slowly reached out until his cold hand was resting tightly on top of her own. It was as if (Y/n) had become paralysed, her body back under his control as always. She let him guide her hand away from the door and allowed his body to get even closer to hers as he locked the door to ensure they wouldn't be disturbed and she wouldn't be leaving him again.

"See if what was true?" (Y/n) found herself whispering her question before she swallowed so loudly she was sure he heard and his lips curled into a sinister smile.

(Y/n) needed Ben to move away, she needed to unlock the door and either run out or shove him out the door since she lived here not him. But her heart was pounding so loudly against her chest she thought it was trying to reach Ben. She was yearning to be wrapped up in his arms again, but she knew that the moment she let that happen she would be walking back into his trap and she would never leave or have the courage to leave again.

"You've taken something that belongs to me, and you know no one gets away with that, not even you."

"Ben I don't know what-"

(Y/n) cut herself off with a shriek when Ben's hands suddenly clamped down on her hips so tightly she could feel his short nails piercing through into her skin. He was forceful in a way she knew meant he was angry with her even if he wasn't showing it. Using not even half of his weight, he pushed her until her back hit the door so harshly her hips started to ache and her spine cracked into place causing her to whimper.

Her body was pinned between the door and Ben's hard frame and her frightened eyes were pierced with his harsh green ones that were burning through right to her soul.

He was claiming her. Backing her up into the wall so she knew that he wasn't letting her go and he was hurting her because she had hurt him by leaving.

Tears started to fall from (Y/n)'s eyes when Ben crudely yanked her coat apart so forcefully a button popped off and went flying towards the kitchen. (Y/n) saw Ben's eyes lighting up as he made quick work of discarding her coat on the floor before his hands quickly moved to her jumper. He wasted no time in pulling it up and ripping it off her head and arms, revealing her rounded stomach and cleveage to his prying eyes.

"I fucking knew it." The words were whispered quietly under his breath but his tone frightened (Y/n) almost as much as the fact that he knew what she had been trying to hide.

She had been foolish.

Deep down, (Y/n) knew that there was no way she could hide her pregnancy from him forever. At some point he was going to see her out in the street with a prominent bump or a stroller or a child clinging to her hand. It was only a matter of time before one of his men spotted her and related the information back to Ben. But he had his suspicions just before (Y/n) had left him and she knew it.

But she thought that if she got away before he found out then she could raise this child without him.

What kind of life was this baby going to have when their father was a cold hearted killer?

Ben wasn't the fatherly type even though he had enough possessive love in his heart to love and look after a child. (Y/n) knew he wanted children but truthfully he wasn't the kind of person who should have children and she knew it. All (Y/n) wanted to do was do what was best for her baby and she knew that the best thing was to try and get away and do this on her own.

Doing it on her own would no longer be possible because Ben knew.

He would either make sure he was in their child's life or worse still, never let (Y/n) leave him and make them his version of a perfect family.

"Tell me, what made you think you could run off with something that belongs to me and get away with it?"

"What makes you think you own me or this baby?"

"It's my child-"

"No, it's my baby and if I want to leave and bring it up on my own then I have every right."

(Y/n) was the mother and she was carrying this baby, it was her decision if she wanted to leave Ben and do this alone and she had every right whereas Ben didn't. She didn't want a murderer bringing up her baby with her but she knew that now Ben had found out, he was never going to let her disappear with his child. This was his baby too and he was not the kind of man to let this sort of thing go, he wasn't going to give in and never see his child or not have an input in their life and upbringing.

Such a wicked, cackling laugh left Ben's lips and made (Y/n) shiver and cry harder. He never meant to make her feel down or worthless but sometimes he just couldn't help it. Ben pressed himself further against (Y/n) until his abdomen was touching her protruding stomach and his chest was pinned against hers. His hands moved back to gripping her lips as he looked down at her with a horrid grin.

"You're very naïve if you think you have any right in taking away what's mine. This is my baby, sweetheart, and I'm not letting either of you go again."

(Y/n) shivered when Ben's lips feverishly moulded over her own making the past three months diminish into nothing like they had never existed. Time apart seemed to have done nothing for the way (Y/n)'s heart truly felt about the monster standing in front of her because the moment his lips touched hers she could feel her heart speeding up and her mind screaming because she wanted him back.

But he wasn't going to let her go again.

His hands moved from her hips to her stomach, roaming over the expanding flesh of her stomach before he suddenly seemed to become impatient. His hips forced into her own that were already feeling bruised from how he was man-handling her. She could feel him pressing into her and his abdomen pushing harder on her stomach that was already hurting from the baby she was carrying.

His roaming hands shifted once again until he had both of (Y/n)'s wrists clenched tightly in his fist that he pinned up against the top of the door.

Usually when Ben was being forceful like this it made (Y/n) shiver and relish in the adrenaline he sparked in her system, but this was different. Ben wasn't being forceful and possessive in a loving, sexual manner. He was being possessive in a sense that told her she was not escaping him again. He was holding her as his captive, his prisoner and he was making sure she knew that he owned her, every part of her and he was not allowing her to leave him again no matter how hard she tried.

Another small whimper left (Y/n)'s lips that felt bruised with the way Ben was biting them like he wanted to devour them before his lips travelled south. They went from licking and nibbling her neck to sinking his teeth into her skin and pulling so hard that (Y/n) started to cry again. She could feel his tongue lightly going over the bruises he was creating as he kept kissing further down her neck and collar bone until he reached her cleavage.

Her chest started to quake and push further back against the door in a feeble attempt to pull away from Ben but it made no difference. He gripped her wrists tighter, rutted his hips into her aching ones and curled his free hand around her neck to show her she was weak and powerless when up against him.

(Y/n) was no stranger to Ben's punishments but when he punished her it was never in a physical way except for the one time he did choke her. But now he wasn't choking her, he was holding her neck tightly but allowing her to breathe. He was showing her that he was in control, he was letting her breathe simply because he wanted to and because he held that power and he could take her oxygen away at any given moment.

His nails dug into her throat that let out a few choked cries when he bit down on her breasts, already smirking against her skin at the marks he was leaving behind to show her who she belonged to.

A gasp of air left (Y/n)'s lips when Ben's hand tightened enough to cut off her oxygen for a few seconds before his hand moved again and scratched his nails down the side of her skin. He left bright red lines down her side and down her stomach but he smoothed the pad of his thumb against her stomach like he was showing her he wouldn't hurt her stomach in fear of hurting the baby.

All (Y/n) could do was cry when Ben's lips smothered her own again and his hand scratched her side and forcefully moved under the elastic of her leggings and underwear. Her lower abdomen shrunk inwards from the sudden touch to her delicate skin and her body shook when he scratched her again before be pulled her underwear down enough to fit his hand between her legs.

There wasn't even a chance for (Y/n) to tense her thighs and press her legs together because Ben's knee found its way between her legs and his whole body forced against hers so tightly (Y/n) could feel every vein and artery pulsing in her body. She wanted to move, to pull away and push Ben as far back as she could manage but all (Y/n) could do was cry and shift and jump against his touch that was switching constantly between gentle and very rough.

"Do you really want to leave me, baby? Cause I don't think you do, and you know I will always protect you both."

(Y/n) wanted to leave.

She knew it was safer to be away from Ben than it was to be with him when he was this possessive, destructive and unhinged. But at the same time, her heart was still head over heels in love with him and he always loved her even if that love was in a different, twisted kind of way. Ben was never going to let (Y/n) disappear or leave him when she was pregnant with his child. He would never allow that.

He would never let her go now.

#ben hardy #ben x reader #dad! ben #ben hardy imagine #murderer! ben #imagine

[fanfic-corner]

i would know him in death

I'm so excited to finally be sharing this project!! I've been working on it for what feels like forever as part of the @grishaversebigbang and honestly it's one of my favourite things I've ever written :)

Corporalki: @deltatrevino45, @sitaarein

Materialki: @polekands [art 1 here!] [art 2 here!], @we-are-made-of-stories [art here!]

Summary:

When Kaz Brekker dies in the city he owns, all Inej can do is mourn. But when it starts to become clear that his apparent heart attack may be anything but natural causes, a war breaks out on the streets of Ketterdam. The Wraith demands vengeance for what she has lost, and her answer may lie in the child of one of the richest citizens of Kerch.

It’s a good thing that retirement means Jesper and Wylan have plenty of time on their hands, because there’s a storm coming, and they are right in the middle of it.

Read it on AO3!

Prologue under the cut.

Jesper

The day that Kaz Brekker dies starts like any other.

It’s windy, for starters. This kind of biting wind isn’t uncommon in Ketterdam— the canals and tall buildings tend to create wind tunnels—but there’s an extra chill in the air that makes Jesper shiver. Turning his collar up to the wind, he crosses his arms and frowns at Kaz.

“Why couldn’t you have dragged us out of retirement on a sunny day, Brekker?”

Kaz doesn’t look up from his pocket watch, waiting for Wylan’s signal. “And who is responsible for you being able to go into early retirement?”

Jesper huffs, kicking at a stone that has come loose from the cobbled street. His eyes wander across the windows of the nearby houses, hoping for a glimpse of Wylan. He had come on the Ice Court heist along with the rest of them and proved his skill countless times, but he’s still the most gullible of them. Of course Jesper worries about his new husband, especially when his lifelong dream is apparently to run a hotel, not be a hardened criminal.

“Come on,” he mutters under his breath, fingers itching for his pistols at his hip.

As if on cue, there’s a deafening bang from down the street, and they’re moving. Leaping onto the waiting boat after Kaz, Jesper grabs his oar and gets ready to start rowing. The second blast goes off, warning that they need to get moving now, but Kaz hasn’t reached for his oar yet.

“Kaz? Are we going, or are you being dramatic and not telling me crucial parts of the plan again?” Jesper asks, turning to his friend.

Kaz is staring at him, his eyes wide and jaw tight. It takes another moment for Jesper to realise that the creaking sound he can hear is not, in fact, the boat, but Kaz’s breathing.

“Kaz?” he asks again. Every instinct is screaming at him to do something, but he has no idea what’s going on.

Almost the entirety of Ketterdam has wanted Dirtyhands dead at some point. Countless attempts to arrest or kill the Bastard of the Barrel have failed. Some people are even convinced that he’s somehow immortal, possessed by an evil spirit rather than a human who can bleed and die.

In the end, Jesper is the only person there to witness Kaz Brekker’s death. He doesn’t go up in smoke, nor does he scream. He simply locks eyes with his favourite sharpshooter, struggles for his last breath, and then falls backwards into the water without another word.

Inej

Ketterdam has been many things for Inej Ghafa—a dot on a map, a prison, a place where she worked—but now all she can think of it as is home. Even in her absence, the city seems familiar; every sloping roof top is calling her, a reminder of her personal map of the city. The Wraith doesn’t need a street. She travels through the sky or on the water, and any smart man should fear her on either.

It doesn’t take long for them to dock. This is Fifth Harbour, after all, and Inej is as much of a Dreg as one can be, even after the long months at sea. It feels good to be back; as much as she has come to love the open water, she missed the city- and the people in it. Three people, to be specific. They should all be waiting for her, she has sent a letter ahead, and she knows they have missed her as much as she has missed them.

As soon as she steps onto dry land, she hears the tail end of the usual gossip. Stepping foot off a boat means that people want information as soon as possible: any sailor surely knew that anything said at a dock could be spread across the entire sea by nightfall.

Dirtyhands, the voices say. Bastard, the seagulls scream. Kaz, the wind whispers into her ear as it caresses her hair from her face. There is salt on the breeze; a storm is coming, Inej thinks.

Jesper isn’t hard to spot in a crowd, considering his height, and Wylan—as usual—is glued to his side, held close to the Zemeni man by an arm slung around his shoulder. However, their display of affection isn’t what Inej notices first, but rather the sad, drawn looks on their faces. They both look like haunted men, and suddenly the wind doesn’t seem quite as gentle.

They don’t notice her until she is a few feet from them; not even all her time away at sea has robbed her of her quiet footfall.

Jesper tries to crack a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hiya,” he croaks, and Inej sees Wylan squeeze his hand.

“It’s Kaz,” Inej says, and it isn’t a question.

No one says anything for a long moment. Wylan reaches a shaking hand out to Inej, clearing his throat before finally voicing her worst fear.

“He’s dead.”

Inej knows, abstractly, that this day would arrive at some point. Death comes for everyone, sooner or later. She just never expected it to be quite so soon.

She isn’t sure if the wetness on her face is the first few drops of rain, or her own tears.

#gvbb21 #gvbbfic21 #i would know him in death #wesper #kanej #six of crows #shadow and bone #my writing #iwkhid #mmb writes

[leviathans-watching]

satan x gn!reader, rated g, valentine’s day fluff

part 2/7 of my obey me v-day hcs!

masterlist

pt 2: “words fail” with satan at 12 pm est

You check your phone, reaffirming the text Satan had sent you

Satan: come to the living room

Looking around, you don’t see him, which is odd. However, there’s something on the coffee table that catches your eye

Walking over to get a closer look, you see a single red rose and a note

‘MC’ is scrawled on the front of the note in Satan’s elegant script.

“Dearest MC,

I struggle to find the words to say I love you when I try to say it aloud. Due to this, I’ve decided to compose a letter to you describing my utter devotion.

MC. You make my whole world better. You make me better.

When we were in the human realm, I managed to pick up a collection of human love poems, and I found one I think best describes my love to you.

‘This is my confession.

As dark as I am,

I will always

find enough light

to adore you to pieces,

with all of my pieces.’

The poem was written by Johnny Nguyen. I find most of his work beautiful.

Before you came, my world was so dark, Before you, all I felt was a never-ending sea of wrath, hot and burning, like lava in my throat. Occasionally, I would feel a sick sense of satisfaction or smugness, but I now know those emotions were just pale imitations of the real thing, something I only know because of you.

I now feel love, happiness, hope, all things I thought I could never achieve. And it’s all thanks to you.

So, MC, if you know nothing, at least know this. I will always love you. I will always be there for you. And all I can hope is you never get tired of me and feel the same way.

Yours completely,

Satan”  

Blinking back tears, you re-read the letter, tracing each carefully penned word with your finger. Fits that Satan would write you a letter. He always was better at communicating that way.

Smelling the rose, which was thornless, you press the letter to your chest, promising you’d never lose it.

It would be one of those things you pull out in a few decades that transports you to the past.

Folding up the letter, you set out on your next goal: finding that silly fourth-born.

Instinct tells you to head to his room, so you do, steps hurried against the stone floor. Once you make it to his room, you don’t bother knocking, instead throwing the door open in your haste.

Satan blinks in surprise as you barrel towards him.

“You boneheaded demon,” you say into his neck, hugging him tightly. “Of course I’m yours. Forever and always.”

Satan’s entire body untenses, and he hugs you back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

—

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leviathans-watching’s work - please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own

#obey me game #obey me shall we date #leviswriting #satan x you #satan x reader #satan x mc #satan obey me #satan avatar of wrath #fluff #love letters #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #satan x gn!mc

[cloud9in]

The Half of It - 2 (Poppy x MC)

Summary: Bea, the town’s outcast is recruited by the school jock to win Poppy’s heart. But what happens when she starts falling for her as well?

HIGHLY recommend you read/re-read part 1

No warnings this chapter

Word Count: 2.6k

Chapter 2: How to write a love letter 101

 “In love, one always starts by deceiving oneself...and ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls romance.”

- Oscar Wilde

I was tasked with what was probably the hardest piece of writing I’ve done in all of my years of highschool, and I wrote eight different versions of the analysis on David vs Goliath my freshman year. That’s besides the point, it wasn’t like any normal research essay. No. For some reason I found that my one and only letter to Poppy would have to be the best thing I ever wrote in the entirety of the universe. Too bad I had to make it sound like it was written by Carter, that big stupid jock. You can guess how severely depressed I became after reading what he had initially written…

 “Dear Poppy, I think you’re really beautiful. Even if you were ugly, I’d want to know you, because you are smart and nice, too. It’s hard to find all those things in one girl. But even if you were only two of those things, I’d be into it. But you’re, like, all three, just to be clear.”

 Bea reads off the paper, turning her head with cringe and confusion at the confident jock sitting next to her. Carter smiles, “She’s all three, like you know all three backs of football. The running back, the fullback-”

 “Thanks for clarifying...:”

 Carter stares awkwardly, waiting for her to continue on. And Bea does, with a big ass sigh.

“...About me. Some people think I’m the cutest one in my family. Those people being my grandma...who’s dead now...Never mind about my dead grandma. All I’m saying is that I like fries. I like dipping them in my milkshake. Is that weird? It’s actually really tasty. Would you like to try that with me sometime?

 CJ, school quarterback.”

 Bea takes a good five minutes to compose herself. Yeah this was definitely gonna be a long week. She lowers the paper slightly and turns to Carter, a puzzled look in her eyes. “So what you’re trying to say is-”

 “I’m in love with her.”

 That confession definitely would have sent her sprawling a few feet back if she hadn’t been sitting. Love? What was love? And why does she despise it now that Carter has mentioned it. 

“...Have you ever spoken to her?”

 “Well...no, I’m not good with words. Besides, would I be here with you if I did talk to her?”

 Bea rolls her eyes and huffs exhaustingly. “Carter, you're not in love. You’re just stubborn.”

 “No I’m not! It’s love, I know it’s love. Love feels different, it doesn’t feel...real. It almost feels impossible. But we indulge in it because of the thrill, the adrenaline of chasing someone mindlessly...and wanting to be present in everything they do. There’s that ‘what if?’, the question that could make or break that love. Even if the ending isn’t what you had hoped for, at least you know how it felt to feel so much joy, so much want.”

 Carter stares up at the ceiling in thought, his eyes seem to be unfocused, staring at nothing and everything. Bea gazes over at him in part shock and part admiration, a smile painting her face. “...Wow.”

 “...Hm, yeah. I heard it in a dating app commercial once.” 

 Bea gasps and smacks Carter repeatedly with the letter in her hand, clearly disappointed. 

 “Wha- Ow!”

 “And here I was thinking you were being original.”

 Bea eventually sits back in her seat, her shoulders slumping as she reads the letter over and over again, trying to make sense of it. That was the problem though, it didn’t make sense, well maybe the fries part did, but the blonde had a lot of work to do. Carter watches her silently until he can’t hold back the lingering question in his head. “...Haven’t you ever felt it? That screwy feeling that love gives you? Poppy makes me feel screwy.”

 Bea continues to read, her eyes glued onto the words that are slightly falling out of the printed lines of the notebook paper. But her mind is fully elsewhere, she heard his question loud and clear. The only thing she could muster was an annoyed “no” in efforts to not become vulnerable.

 He intertwined his hands together, leaning back on the bench. “...Oh I get it, you’ve never been in love have you?”

 Bea’s legs were already one step ahead of her mind as they sprung her out of the seat. She grabs her bag and swats the papers in Carter’s direction, a scoff leaving her lips. “You want a love letter? I’ll give you a love letter!”

 “Yeah but will it be something that makes her fall in love with me and not walk away like you’re doing right now-” Carter’s voice rings out hurriedly yet Bea can’t hear anything except the pounding of her heart getting louder as she stalks out of the church. Love, love, love, what even is it? Will I ever feel it? There is nobody who could make me feel-

 The blonde was cut abruptly out of her thoughts as she crashed into someone, who was most likely on their respective part of the sidewalk. All of the materials in her arms fell to the concrete and Bea rushed to pick them up, “I’m sorry I-”

A familiar blonde set of locks and porcelain skin came into view and she immediately stopped and looked up. Poppy’s eyes were already boring into hers, a look of slight concern, and maybe annoyance? on her face. 

 “...I’m-I’m Bea Hughes…” She could only stutter, all those moments that she pretended to talk to Poppy in her room were definitely not paying off. 

 But maybe it did pay off because a small smile, masked with sparkly pink lip gloss started to form. Poppy bit her lip as her eyes crinkled with amusement, “...Yeah I know. You’ve only been playing my dad’s services on Sunday for, like, four years. He does favour you...even if you are a heathen.” Poppy peers over at the church that Bea had just come out of and raises an eyebrow in curiosity. She picks up a stray book from the ground and grins with an impressed look. “Remains of The Day...Loved it. Mr. Stevens is quite the character.” Okay, so Poppy has great taste in literature, that’s another thing to add to the list that Bea totally doesn’t have stored in the notes app of her phone. Listen, she has to write a love letter to Poppy Min Sinclair, so every piece of information is vital. 

 Poppy hands the book to Bea, their eyes never leaving each other while standing up. Say something Bea. Anything. It’s almost like the strawberry blonde was waiting, hoping, for her to speak . 

 But she said nothing. No, all the insecure blonde could do is stare into Poppy’s eyes, almost as if she wasn’t afraid to turn to stone. 

 The sound of car tires scraping against the pavement caused Poppy to break eye contact before smiling one last time at Bea. “This is me.” Bea watched the shorter girl stroll past her so casually, the complete opposite of what she was feeling in the moment. She didn’t speak until Poppy closed the car door and the driver took off, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. “I’m Bea Hughes? Really?”

 ***

Bea sat in front of her tv, a pen and notepad in her hand. She couldn’t think of anything to write down. How do you write a love letter, or a confession? This is the one thing she had trouble writing. The tv blasted on with 1987’s “Wings of Desire”. Bea cocked her head to the side when the man started to profess his love. She put her pen to the pad and started writing. 

 Poppy,

 You don’t know me, and truth be told I see that as a good thing. You know that saying, there are plenty of fish in the sea? Well I am not a fisherman, nor do I think you are a fish. Letters are not the form of communication that I would personally prefer, but I am the one writing to you. So no more complaining. I think you are interesting. Like a book I want to read. I’d even read the author’s notes at the end just to get every bit of you. I don’t desire a lot of things, but I long for a wave of love to swell up in me. That’s what makes me so clumsy: the lack of pleasure.

 Yours, 

Carter 

***

Bea pushes down on her pedals, pacing her breath with each turn of the wheels beneath her. The voice of Carter appears as he races behind her, careful not to send her flying last time. Then she’d never write a letter again.  “Bea! She wrote back!”

 The blonde pulled the brakes on her bicycle so hard a wheel might have popped off. She was out of breath but suddenly the reason for it was different. Bea grabs the letter from Carter’s hands and makes haste to read the words she imagined would sit on the paper. 

  Carter,

 I like Wim Wenders too. Wouldn’t have plagiarized him though.

 -Poppy 

“Who’s Wim Wenders and why’d you cheat off of him? Bea I looked up what plagiarism meant.”

 “I didn’t cheat off of him!...Okay maybe I did but this is a good thing!”

 “HOW?”

 “It’s...it’s like a game. She’s challenging us..but in a good way.” Bea nods to Carter but also to herself. There was a response. She didn’t think that Poppy would write back but she did and it has changed Bea’s outlook on everything. She was in, and there was no way it could stop now. 

 “So...are we back in the game?” Carter’s words jumble Bea out of her thoughts and she stutters, “Yep..yes we are.” No you are. “We are definitely back in it.” Nope just you Bea. 

 Bea leaves Carter with an awkward fist bump before peddling away, her mind racing with a million thoughts. But they always seem to close back into one familiar blonde who danced and did everything Bea couldn’t. She sighed, the adrenaline pumping its way out of her lungs. 

 “Game on, Poppy Min Sinclair.”

***

 Bea spent the following days perfecting her next letter to Poppy. This one would be more heartfelt, and less cringe and plagiaristic like her last one. It would come from her and only her...but for Carter of course. The thing is, when Bea started writing again, she didn’t think about the fact that Carter would take credit for everything on the paper, and that he would be the one that develops a *possible* relationship with Poppy. Maybe she didn’t want to think about that part, but the other parts brought just the right amount of serotonin to make her shitty day better. Everything she read, everywhere she went reminded her of the strawberry blonde, and of the unfinished letter. Bea attempted to step into the life of Carter’s and speak like a jock would, without making him seem like something he is not. But that was hard. Because it was her words, her mind. Carter would take that from her, even if it was unintentional. 

 It didn’t help that Carter didn’t want them to be seen together in public. He would slide to the opposite end of the bench in the church when his football buddies would come in. Bea didn’t take it personal. She of course had other things going through her mind. 

 It took 7 days. One week. To finish the second letter, a very short one. Bea wouldn’t describe herself as a perfectionist, but every word that Poppy would read had to be perfect.

Dear Poppy,

 Okay you got me…

 Now that that’s done, let’s start over yeah? I’ll start by saying that I sometimes hide behind other people’s words. For one thing, I know nothing about love. I’m 17 and I’ve lived in Farmsville my whole life. I hang out with my friends, I keep my head down. I’m a simple...guy. Which is to say, if I knew what love was, I would quote myself. But I don’t. I have a question for you, please answer it in any way you want. Are you happy where you are right now?

 -Carter

Bea sat in the church, silently tapping away at the keys of piano, a simple soft melody following the nod of her head. Carter had found her like that but didn’t want to disturb. Except, Poppy wrote back again, so this was big news. They both sat in confession booths as Bea read the letter quietly, her hand gripping the edges a little too harshly. 

Dear Carter,

 You know that it takes eleven muscles to yawn? This is the sort of weird fact I find myself recalling to keep myself from...well yawning. Or showing anything I feel really. And I find myself doing that a lot. So yeah..believe it or not, I turn to other people’s words too. 

 When you’re a pretty girl, and I know it makes me sound conceited, but sometimes I am, but that’s why you’re even writing to me right? I mean my image is what gives me attention, I’ve grown used to that fact. When you’re a pretty girl, people want to give you things. What they really want is to make you like them. Not like them as in, “i like you”, but like them as in, “i am like you.” You may think I’m different, but I’m like a lot of other people. Which makes me kind of no one. It looks like I’ve found my place but I really haven’t. Just a girl who’s lost in the mix. I don’t know why I feel like I can tell you this, but you provide the sort of safety I always craved. You’re interesting Carter, I like you. 

 -Poppy 

Bea read the last sentence more times than she should’ve. Carter watched her silently as she stared into the lines of the paper, maybe hoping that more words would magically appear. The blonde couldn’t describe the feeling in her chest, but it hurt. Physically. 

 “Uh...can I text her now?”

 “Too soon.”

 “No, I'm gonna do it now.”

 Bea felt herself starting to get frustrated, but calmness always overtook any other feeling she had. She was taught to be rational.

 “You do that and she’ll think you’re just like everyone else.” You’re not like anyone else Bea, she needs to know that. 

 Carter lets out a heavy sigh and pulls out his phone. Bea felt a buzz in her pocket and pulled hers out as well. A message pops up alerting Bea of another income of $50 being sent to her. 

***

 Bea slogged through the crowded halls trying to find the exit but before she can walk any further, a firm hand grabs her and pulls her into a familiar classroom. The blonde turns to scowl at the perpetrator which was probably Bradley, but instead she sees bright red lips and black glasses. Ms. Kingsley. But she doesn’t look too happy.

 The older woman holds up a paper which Bea recognizes immediately as her letter to Poppy. How in the world did she get that? 

 “So...this is why half my class is failing their essays?”

 Bea could make a snarky comment back to her, but the sight of the letter sends her thoughts spiraling once again. She lets out a defeated sigh. I mean how did this woman know she’d  written that letter? Ina Kingsley knew everything. “Look...I’ll be reopen for business soon enough.” Bea starts to turn to leave and looks at Kingsley one more time. “I can’t do this for much longer.”

 Bea couldn’t hold in her feelings for much longer as well. But not even Kingsley knew that. She walked out of the classroom with her head down, hoping to avoid eye contact with the one she wanted to see the most. 

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End Note: Part two is here woah. Thought it would never come. 

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @zigxryanz @uselesslesbianfr @aleiramacaii  @thedaft1 @alexlabhont @iamsimpforpoppy @cloakanddaggerthings @straightlikewetspaghetti 

#queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #mc x poppy #playchoices #any feedback is appreciated #my brain is toast #poppy will definitely become centric in this story #starting next chapter

[oiksuga]

come on and show me

prompt: smell of mint: “the strength of love and hate are one in the same.“ for @tooruluv | #tooruluv2kparty pairing: oikawa x f!reader tags: angst, misunderstandings, childhood neighbors to enemies (?) to ?, rated M for Makeout (so rated pg-13) warnings: underage alcohol consumption, ambiguous ending wc: ~4k synopsis: the one where you and oikawa grow up right next door of each other. complementary songs: unholy - hey violet // new girl - finneas // like real people do - hozier a/n: this fic had me biting my nails. i haven’t written in ages and to tackle something this long made me woozy. hope you enjoy it! (update: decided to turn it into a semi-angsty one-shot instead, maybe i’ll continue it as a side project, but for now, it is done!) no beta we die like men. i’ll proofread later.

You first meet Tooru Oikawa at the age of six. He had just moved to your street. The house right next door, no less. Quiet, shy, a bit of a crybaby. He clung to his mother for the entirety of that first meeting, a stuffed cartoon alien tightly clutched in his right hand. Your mothers, naturally, hit it off. You and Oikawa on the other hand, well that’s was a work in progress.

You tried to play nice, you really did. Your mother had told you about how it was just them two and his older sister. His father had died a little over a year before. So obviously you felt bad. You went over to his house on a few ocassions. His mother would welcome you with open arms each and every time. He was another story.

He had enough manners to come say hello, even inviting you up to his room to play with some toys (at the behest of his mother) but the minute she was out of sight, he’d go back to his own things, paying you no attention. Not that you particularly fancied playing with him, but if you walked this far to visit him, you would think he could acknowledge you for more than 2 minutes.

Tired of wasting valuable playtime sitting on the floor of his room, you take matters into your own hands and ask your brother for advice. He was a year older than you and Oikawa, so naturally you believed he held the secrets to the universe.

You approached him after dinner, and presented him with your problem.

“And I don’t know why he makes it so hard to be friends. And mom just keeps forcing me to visit him.” The huff of indignation only made him laugh.

“Well Y/n, you have to understand that he’s lonely. He is not very used to having others around him.”

“But if he is so lonely, wouldn’t hanging out with me make him feel better?”

“Remember how mom told you his dad is no longer with him?” you nod, “Well he has been living with other girls so much he probably wants to play with another boy. Guys don’t always want to play princesses you know?”

“So would he want to play with me if anothery boy was present?”

“Well, that is up to him, but it would interest him.”

“Then will you come with me tomorrow when I go over?”

“Sure”

And that is how you found yourself at his doorstep once again, brother in tow. His mother practically bounced off the walls seeing he had accompanied you. Did she also think he needed a boy to play with? She called Oikawa down, and you could hear some grumbling from his end. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, a confused looked ag the sight of two people instead of one.

Your brother went up to him first.

“Hey, uh Tooru right?” First name basis already?“I’m Y/n’s older brother. Well I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out with me and a couple of my friends today?”

Huh, so that was his plan. Your brother is the unofficial leader of his group of friends, comprised of various kids in the neighbourhood. Some his age, some more around yours. They like to cause trouble and torment other kids at times. Your mothers were close too. Unfortunately for you, none of them had any sisters your age. So everytime you were supposed to play with them, you were miserable.

After that first meeting, your brother and Oikawa had become quite the pair. He took him “under his wing” (as he liked to call it) and formally inducted him to his squad. They were over the moon to have someone new to hang out with (read corrupt). You, on the other hand, could not hate it more. Now that those two were buddies, Oikawa was always present in your home. Anywhere you looked he was there. And now that he had other people to be with, he came out of his shell. Gone was that snotty kid with the alien plush, now replaced with a self-absorbed bastard you wanted no relation to. Too bad he never took the hint. It got worse once you both turned 14.

“You know Y/n, I’ve gotten so many confession letter this week. But oddly enough, I have not gotten one from you. You need to hurry up before one of these girls wins your spot as my girlfriend.”

“Well good thing I have enough smarts to never feel the need to do something like that.”

“Ouch Y/n you are killing me over here. Whatever, I’ll just look for it in your room when you are gone.”

“What the- how are you going to do that? You know what don’t tell me. Just please get out.”

“Or you are gonna do what? Call your brother to-“

He was interrupted by the arrival of yet another nuisance in your room.

“Hey Oikawa, please leave the poor girl alone. Stop being such a pain”

Enter Hajime Iwaizumi. Ah Iwaizumi. The other half of the obnoxious duo. Not that you don’t like him. No, quite the opposite. He keeps Oikawa tame and off your hair, something which you are deeply grateful for. But he also has his habits of annoying the crap out of you. All of your brother’s friends do. But you like to think that deep down they’d do anything for you.

“Not now Iwa-chan, Y/n is about to confess her secret feelings for me.” He says, clearly aware of the growing irritation on his friend’s face.

“Don’t make me pull you by your hair again. We are going to be late for the movie.” He emphasized his threat by rolling up sleeves, a tell-tale sign he was about to beat the crap out of Oikawa.

“Alright alright Iwa-chan you are such a hard ass.” He now turns to you, taking a few steps forward and stands right in front of you. “I’ll see you later, m’lady.” With that nickname, he took your right hand and kissed your knuckles. You could only srunch up your face. Gross, how many of those shows are he watching.

You heard the downstairs door shut and with that, it was silent again.

Finally, peace.

Years went by, and Oikawa’s popularity only skyrocketed. Everyone around him found him attractive, so naturally they’d hang on to him. He was also really good in volleyball, so everyone would go to see him play. Your brother and him remained close friends. Hosting parties together, going on weekend long trips with all their friends. All things you were forbidden from participating in because, as your brother said, this is not the crowd you want to be with. Your parents still let you host your own events, but nothing of that magnitude.

Soon enough, years went by, and you began your senior year of high school. This was going to be your years. With your brother now gone, having graduated and gone off to college, it’s your turn to be the life of the party. No more “you can’t be there.” Now all eyes will be on you. And what a better way to make your debut than with a party. While classes didn’t start until a week later, it was your brother’s tradition to take over your parent’s beach house for a weekend and hold a last big major bash before the semester began.

Invitations were sent, music was chosen and all that was left to do was tidy up the place. You brought some of your friends with you to help you get the place ready before the chaos began. Sweeped everything, locked away valuables, and got them settled in two of the rooms so they could sleep comfortably after. As you were outside stocking up the bar area, you heard a collection of voices coming from the living room. It’s too early, why are there people coming already? As you walk back in, you are greeted with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and their two friends, who were also part of your brother’s group, Hanamaki and Matsukawa, all too sitting too comfortably in your couch.

“I hope you guys know this is a respectable place.” You crossed your arms at the sight of them getting too comfortable in your couches. Feet up on coffee table like savages.

Oikawa spoke first. “Relax darling,” God you hated that nickname, “You do know we have been here more times than you right? The parties that have happened in this place oh man.” You felt indignated at his attempt to one up you in your own home.

“Well if I recall correctly, this is still my parentms place, so I can have you and your friends kicked if I wanted to.”

At that, the other three butted in, a chorus of “Oikawa what the hell man,” and the sound of Iwaizumi hitting the back of his head.

“Okay fine. I’m sorry Y/n that you are so jealous of me and my party animal ways.”

“God you are exhausting. But anyways, I am glad you guys are here because I need help hanging some lights outside. Iwa and Mattsun, could you pretty please come with me to hang these?”

You led them outside, before sticking your head back in, directing your gaze to the two remaining guys camping in your couch.

“And don’t think I have forgotten about you two. Kiyoko needs some help putting more stuff together, and the rest of the girls went out to order food, so please make yourselves useful and go.”

You play some music on the speakers, and get to work.

Soon enough, the party was in full swing. You swam through the sea of bodies trying to locate the kitchen. The sheer number of people was disorienting. But to your luck, the swaying crowd somehow guided you to your destination, slightly sticky from stranger’s sweat, but otherwise unscathed. You make way to the counter and try and lift yourself onto it. The drinks in your system making in a harder task than usual. You are halfway through climbing in a more unlady-like manner, when a voice calls out for you.

“Uh Y/n, need some help?”

You turn around to see Oikawa. His face was flushed, you assumed it was from whatever was in the plastic cup in his hand. Hair disheveled, forehead shiny from his sweat. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, and the lighting made his chain glint at an angle. If he wasn’t Oikawa, you’d admit he was attractive.

You become aware of your compromising position and stop your attempts of getting on the counter. The suddent movements make you wobbly, and you grab onto the counter to keep stable. You notice him walking over to you, and motion for him to stop.

“I don’t need your help. Just get me a water bottle from the fridge please.”

He obliges your request and gets some water for you, going so far as to opening the bottle, and hands it you. You are silently grateful, as you don’t think you have the coordination to do it yourself. As you are drinking, feeling the relief of the coolness down your throat, you notice he’s staring at you. This felt odd, there was something about the way he looked at you. You felt too vulnerable. It was getting awkward.

“So, you enjoying the party? I saw you doing a shots competition outside earlier. Did you win, Mr. Party Animal?” You made sure to emphasize the mock of his nickname.

He huffs indignantly. “Well Y/n-chan, cannot believe you doubt my abilities. If you must know, I did in fact win, with an impressive 5 shots down my system. And look at me, cool as a cucumber.”

You look at him for a second, brows furrowed, and then burst out laughing. “‘Cool as a cucumber’? God you are lame.”

All he can do is stare at you. You have never laughed like that. It’s always measured, not too loud, not too long. This is different. He likes different.

When you stop, you notice he is staring again. You feel small. As if you are under a million spotlights, all pointed at you. You are about to ask if he was okay, but seems like someone beat you to it.

“Hey Tooru~ I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?” She notices the position you are in, and slightly grimaces, “Tooru who is this.”

He blinks, a bit too hard, and turns to face her. “Hey Sara, this is Y/n,” he motions to you, “you know, the one who organized this party.”

Sara. You know who she is. And she definitely knows you. You two met at the last student council election, a few months back. When you found out you were running agaisnt each other. She was the current president, and you held a lower position as secretary, so running for president felt like a giant leap. Though it seems that after a month of campaigning, debates, and a tiresome election you had won. A very exciting moment, and what felt as a good culmination to your high school career. You and Sara had an extensive talk about it over coffee, in which she assured no ill feelings towards you.

By no means were you guys best friends, but you also like to think you were not enemies.

“Oh Y/n and I know each other. Great to see you again, and amazing party, you really know how to entertain.” Well that answers that, she doesn’t hate you. Great. “Do you mind if I borrow Tooru over here? There are some things I need to talk to him about.”

“No problem at all, glad you are having fun.” You wave goodbye and with that they were gone. You were alone.

Now feeling more sobered up, you decide to go back to the masses. Your newfound energy leading you to the makeshit dancefloor, letting loose to Makk’s karaoke rendition of Pursuit of Happiness. What a movie moment. Everything letting loose in a beach house living room.

The thing that wasn’t a movie moment though? How much you needed to pee. How come no one ever informs you of the effects alcohol has on your bladder?

Once again, you venture through the bodies to find the bathroom. There was no line, which should have been a sign. But you made no thought of it, until you swung the door open and found, in the most cliche moment ever, the ever-present Tooru Oikawa passionately making out with Sara. That sobers you right up.

If they noticed, you wouldn’t know, because you bolt out immediately and go straight to your room. You go to the bathroom there, and as you are washing your hands, you stare at yourself in the mirror. Even though you only saw them for a second, the image of those two making out was burned in your brain.

There was something about the way he held her, pressed to the sink counter, hands on her waist, that made you feel something inside. You chalked it up to general lust and splashed cold water on your face, trying to stop whatever your brain was imagining. You left the bathroom, ready to take a break in bed.

That was, until the man in question made his appearance in your room.

“You know there are laws against trespassing right? So I don’t know what you are doing here but-“

“I came to apologize.”

Well that’s a first.

“Apologize for what exactly. You haven’t been an ass the entire night, if anything, I should congratulate you for that.” You say, tone more snarky than you intended. What were you even pissed about.

“Well I think you and I both know what you walked into. And I just wanted you to know that is not who I am, nor how I behave.”

Oh

“Well let me be the first to tell you that I don’t care who you suck face with, as long as it doesn’t happen in my presence.” What was up with you right now.

“What if it was with you? Would you care then?” He took a step towards you. You took one back.

“What are you talking about.” Why did he keep walking towards you. This room cannot be that big.

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” Your back was met by the wall at the end of the room, and Oikawa now stood in front on you, “Darling.”

Something about the way he looked at you, combined with the alcohol in your system and the muffled music you could hear from downstairs made your insides feel on fire. I must be going crazy, you thought.

Because as soon as that god-awful nickname left his lips, you pulled him down onto yours.

“As your big brother, it is my duty to protect you from all the evil things that are out there. You know that right?” 

“That includes Oikawa right? He is such a meanie. I don’t know why you even hang out with him.” 

“Well, Tooru is different. He means well, he just doesn’t express it how you are used to. Boys his age usually behave like that. But he’ll grow out of it. You’ll learn that eventually.” 

“Well I don’t care. He’s mean and I hate him. I don’t care if he changes. I’ll still hate him.”

“Haha. Well I’m glad. Wouldn’t want you messing around with someone like him anyways.”  

Curse the heavens. There was no denying it. Tooru Oikawa was an amazing kisser.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Grazing his tongue to yours every now and then. His hands, god his hands, his right one was holding his chin, while his left one slid up and down your waist. 

Curse his perfection. This cannot be that snotty kid from all those years ago. This is a whole different person. Yes that’s it. This is not Tooru Oikawa. Because Tooru Oikawa is not capable of making you feel these things. 

Like any normal person, you have to breathe, so you break the kiss. He has the audacity to whine at that. You look of to your side, because something tells you that if you look at him right now, lips swollen and pupils wide, who knows what’ll happen next.

He doesn’t like any of it. 

He takes this opportunity to move his mouth south, landing on the flesh of your neck. He seems to have caught you offguard, if the sound you make at his action is anything to go by. He works his magic in the area. Biting. Kissing. Sucking. Anything that’ll draw out more of those noises. And you wish he’d stay there for eternity. 

But you are you. A little selfish. And always wanting more more more. So you take him by his shirt and lead the two of you onto the bed, gently sitting him down and taking a seat directly on his lap. Now this is more. 

But this also felt wrong. On so many levels. You don’t think you could ever look at your parents again if you have sex on their bed. But the desecration of their sleeping place is a small price to pay for the enormous pleasure you are sure he would bring you. Because if there’s one thing Oikawa Tooru believes in, is doing his best. 

And he sure as hell will do his very best with you. 

“Well well darling, look who is eager now.” He spoke with that sickeningly sweet tone he always uses. But there is something else behind it. You can’t really pinpoint it, but before you could ponder on that, he got a hold of your hips and started to drag you along his length. 

Well if you are off to hell, might as well enjoy the ride. 

You decided to be bold and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and onto the floor. You could sit here and wax poetic about how intimacy goes beyond physical appearance and his muscles are not important, but you are no philosopher. So you’ll say it. He’s hot. You knew the guy was ripped, having been witness to the arduous workouts he and your brother did over the summer, but this was something else. 

Your brother. Ha. Imagine if he could see you right now. Actually don’t. That’s weird. But he would be dissapointed wouldn’t he. All those years being so put off by the mere presence of Tooru Oikawa and now you are sitting atop him, like some sort of worship. Oh the hypocrisy. 

No you can’t think of him right now. No get out of there. 

“Something the matter, princess?” Ah again with the nicknames. “I think you’ve had enough fun up here. Maybe it’s my turn to be on top don’t you think?” 

You nodded. Because that is all you could muster. You feared that if you opened your mouth, all of your thoughts would slip out. 

He rolled you to the side, off of him and onto the mattress. He stood up and groaned and god the way that made you feel. He kneeled on the soft surface, and leaned down to face you. Because he is the epitome of cliche, though, he makes sure to flash you the biggest smile you have ever seen. It looks different. It looks genuine. That’s new, a bit exciting even. 

And before you know it, he goes back to work on your neck. He used his knee to put a slight pressure between your legs. You cannot keep your thoughts straight for long, because the next thing that comes out of your mouth is a moan of his name.

You’ve never used that tone with his name. He, of course, loves it. 

“You cannot imagine how many times I have imagined of doing this.” While you are on your way to what could be a very mind-blowing orgasm, and you are incapable of coherent sentences, your hearing is very much okay. But there is no way you heard what you just heard. Because what the fuck.

“Stop.” It’s low, a bit above a whisper. He couldn’t hear you, you conclude, so he keeps at it for a bit, but when he feels the push of your hands on his chest, he pulls away immediately. 

“A-are you okay? Did I hurt you? Do you want to stop this?” For someone with the charm of a western hero he sure is insecure. 

“What did you mean by that? What do you mean by ‘I imagined of doing this’?” Well of course you know what he meant. But what did that mean for you two? This isn’t something that should be happening. And you tell him just that. “This is not something we should even be doing.” Crap. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

You might not be very fond of him, but you know him. So you know he is probably getting too much inside his head right now, so really you should have seen his next words coming. 

Except this is all new and you haven’t been able to see any of this coming. 

“You know what, you are right. I am sorry. I think we should leave. Actually, this is your room, so I’ll go.” You have to be imagining things, because there is no way he sounds hurt over this. Is there? 

You want to ask if there’s a genuine chance he meant what he said. You really do. But you are scared of his answer. All your life he has been the kid you cannot stand, your brother’s annoying friend. But this changes everything. You have no feelings for him, that you know. But apparently there is chance he does. So what are you doing about that. 

Before you can ask, you hear the door shut. In a flash, he is gone. How befitting.

And like that, once again, you are left alone. All you can hear is the boom of the speakers. 

Your lifelong long was to have Tooru Oikawa out of your life. Now that you have succeeded, why do you not feel at peace. 

fin.

#um hi there #i have not written in ages jesus #rip my ao3 fics i feel sad for not finishing them #haha i need help #tooruluv2kparty #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #tooru oikawa #oikawa x y/n #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

[myonepiece]

My Darling

Whitebeard x fem!s/o

Summary: Whitebeard reunites with the love of his life who he lost conatct with many years ago, and now shes a super powerful & feared pirate (like as well known as him but infamously)

*Told in 3rd person *______ is Y/N

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“What’s going on?”

   Thatch stepped last onto the deck of the Moby Dick where Whitebeard had called everyone to gather. Whitebeard sat with an unusual look in his eyes, one that the crew did not recognize.

“I sent out a letter a few days ago and I’ve finally recieved a reply. We’re going to set sail for {island name} and meet _______ there” Whitebeard concluded as he looked down at his sons who all wore faces of shock and fear.

“_______?!! WHY?!” Ace was the first to speak what everyone else was thinking, why would their captain want to meat up with the most violent pirate that sailed the seas around them. Known for her aggressive and brutal fighting style and her high bounty, she was not one people would go to voluntarily meet. 

“Because I miss my wife and I’m going to get her back, you kids wouldn’t understand gurarararara” He puntuated his joke with a laugh which helped ease some of the mens’ minds, at the same time giving them something else to scream about-

“YOU’RE MARRIED?!”

“YOU’RE MARRIED TO ______?!!”

“WE HAVE A MOM?!”

“Gurarararara! Stop yelling! I lost contact with ______  years ago and whenever I reached out to her the past few years she’s avoided me!” The crew was simultaneously excited, scared, and still in shock, but still they set sail for the island.

   Whitebeard sat as his sons returned to work with occasional glances in his direction, most likely questioning his sanity. But Whitebeard was determined to see ______ again, the woman who had stolen his heart years ago when he was with the Rocks Pirates. At that time she was a Noble’s daughter, but when news of her love reached her father, he had threatened to kill Whitebeard. With _____’s hot temper and powers of the devil fruit she had consumed, she had launched herself against her family, striking them down for threatening harm against the one she loved. But as much as ______ loved Whitebeard and longed to be with him, she craved more of the sensation she felt during the battle. So she turned to the seas herself, burning down villages and leaving bodies in her wake. Earning a name and high bounty had also brought the attention of the still lovesick Whitebeard. But everytime he had tried to rekindle conatct with her, she turned and left leaving no explanation.

   And now as the Moby Dick approached the island, the sky grew dark and filled with clouds with the effects of her devil fruit. The wind picked up and blew harder the closer they got. We meet in the middle of the island, ______ had written in response to his letter- finally ready to join her lover. The crew docked and awaited orders from their fatherly captain, who was frozen staring into the forest outlines the clearing in the middle of the island. As he stepped off of the boat and on to the shore, Ace and Vista walked beside their captain, still suspicious of the sudden meeting between him and ______. 

   Whitebeard’s heart beat seemed spead up with each step, no battle nor enemy could cause this, but _____ could. His arms seemed to ache as he thought of holding her once again, it was as if his body had finally comprehended what was about to happen. He showed none of these feelings to his sons, keeping his composed exterior. And then through the trees he saw the figure, standing in the clearing facing the other way. The wind blew around her long navy blue dress, and her hair whipped around as she stood with an air of pride. Lightning cracked above in the dark sky, causing some of the crew to look cautiously at each other, some readying their weapons and stances as they moved forward into the clearing.

“______!!” Whitebeard called out over the sound of wind and lightning. ______ slowly turned, revealing her infamous wide grin. The wind immediately subsided  as if the whole storm centered around her, making her the calm. A web of lightning cracked around her providing more light in the still dark atmosphere. 

“Long time no see, my dear” ______’s voice echoed across the space and the men look up at their captain. 

“Leave us” Whitebeard stated flatly earning looks of inquisition from his sons. He nodded down at them before they finally began to turn around. Disobeying their captain’s orders, the crew stood behind the trees, watching the events take place. The two mighty figures seemed to communicate through looks as no words passed either lips. Whitebeard stepped forward and slowly made his way towards ______. Standing in front of her felt like a dream, as that was the only way he had “talked” with her for years after the seperation. 

“My darling” Whitebeard’s words were barely louder than a whisper as he peered down at _____ with a small smile. Slowly, ______ reached her hand up and carressed the man’s cheek gently. Whitebeard moved his hand to place on top of hers, this being what prompted the actual retreat of his crew. The two left in the clearing stood silently as they stared wistfully into the others eyes. Whitebeard carefully moved his other hand, placing it gently on the small of ______’s back, seeing no sign of objection from her, he gently pulled her closer until finally closing the space between. The kiss was soft from both sides, but slow and passionate as it continued. As if trying to make up for the time they had lost over the past years. They parted breathlessly but remained close enough for Whitebeard to lean his forehead against hers, his eyes silently asking her to rejoin him and conquer the seas together. ______ smiled softly and placed a small kiss on Whitebeard’s lips before pulling back completely and linking arms with him, her smile accepting his request. 

   So the two pirates walked back through the forest, arm in arm, returning to the sea together.

#one piece #one piece scenario #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard x reader #whitebeard one piece #one piece imagine